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• m 


Land  Without  Ghimneys 

©£2. 

The  Byways  of  Mexico. 


Alfred  Oscar  Coffin,  Ph.D. 


CINCINNATI,  OHIO, 

THE  EDITOR  PUBLISHING  CO., 


Copyright,  1898,  by 
The  Editor  Publishing  Company. 


TO 

PROFESSOR  HELEN  C.  MORGAN, 

MY  FORMER  TEACHER, 

THIS  ROOK 

IS  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED. 


CONTENTS. 


The  San  Juan  Valley 

- 

- 

- 

- 

Page. 

10 

CHAPTER  II. 

Saltillo  and  the  Plateau  - 

_ 

_ 

_ 

’29 

San  Luis  Potosi 

CHAPTER  III. 

. 

. 

. 

45 

The  Bill  op  Fare 

CHAPTER  IV. 

. 

. 

_ 

68 

CHAPTER  V. 

In  the  Valley  op  the  Laja  - 

. 

. 

. 

76 

The  Vale  op  Anahuac 

CHAPTER  VI. 

_ 

. 

. 

93 

CHAPTER  VII. 

The  Valley  op  Mexico 

. 

. 

_ 

107 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
The  Shrine  op  Guadalupe 

. 

. 

_ 

118 

Public  Buildings 

CHAPTER  IX. 

. 

_ 

. 

141 

CHAPTER  X. 

The  Paseo  and  Bull  Fight  - 

. 

. 

. 

153 

La  Viga  Canal 

CHAPTER  XI. 

_ 

. 

. 

168 

The  Suburbs 

CHAPTER  XII. 

. 

. 

_ 

179 

Within  the  Gates 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

192 

y 


vi  Contents. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Trail  of  the  Tangle-Foot 

Page. 

222 

CHAPTER  XV. 

The  City  of  the  Angels  ... 

232 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  Pyramid  of  Cholula  ... 

_ 

241 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Las  Tierras  Calient  as 

_ 

248 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Guadalajara  in  the  Vale  of  Lerma 

, 

269 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

The  Cities  of  the  Plain  ... 

_ 

282 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Dives  and  Lazarus  - 

. 

294 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
Political  Economy  - 

. 

300 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Prehistoric  Ruins  - 

. 

312 

CHAPTER  XXIII, 
Aztec  Cosmogony  and  Theogony 

. 

322 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

The  Lost  Atlantis  .... 

. 

331 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

CONCLUSION  ------ 

348 

A LAND  WITHOUT  CHIMNEYS. 


CATHEDRAL,  CITY  OF  MEXICO 


PREFACE. 


THIS  book  is  not  sent  forth  to  fill  a long- 
felt  want;  nor  does  the  author  hope  to 
convince  all  his  readers  to  his  way  of 
looking  at  the  social  and  religious  problems  of 
Mexico. 

As  a teacher  of  modern  languages,  the  author 
went  to  Mexico  solely  for  the  purpose  of  master- 
ing the  language,  but  the  remembrance  of  that 
enjoyable  stay  allured  him  like  a bird  of  passage 
when  the  spring  has  come,  and  so  he  returned 
to  study  the  people. 

If  what  he  has  written  will  help  any  one  to 
better  understand  our  next  door  neighbor,  his 
humble  efforts  have  not  been  in  vain. 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE  SAN  JUAN  VALLEY. 

ID  it  ever  occur  to  the  American  reader 


that  there  lives  a people  numbering 


' twelve  millions,  who  know  not  the  com- 
forts of  the  fire-place,  nor  the  discomforts  of 
soot  and  chimney-swallows  ? And  yet  there 
lives  just  such  a people  at  our  very  doors;  just 
across  the  Rio  Grande,  in  that  strange  land  of 
romance  and  fiction,  where  the  sixteenth  and 
nineteenth  centuries  go  hand-in-hand  and  never 
unite ; where  the  variation  in  temperature  is  less 
than  at  any  other  place  on  the  globe ; where  an 
ancient  race  live  among  the  ruined  temples  and 
pyramids  of  a race  they  know  not  of ; where  the 
traveler  finds  mouldering  ruins  of  hewn  stone 
engraved  with  figures  and  animals  that  have  no 
likeness  anywhere  else,  except  amid  the  ruins 
of  Egypt;  it  is  here  you  find  the  Land  Without 
Chimneys.  The  land  of  Montezuma ; the  spoil 
of  Cortez;  the  treasure-house  of  Spain;  the 
modern  Mexico,  where  fact  and  fancy  so  mingle 
with  romance  and  fable,  that  we  hardly  know 
when  we  have  reached  historical  data. 

When  the  Spaniards  reached  Mexico  in  1518, 
they  found  that  the  Toltec  history,  done  in  pic- 
ture-writing, was  the  most  reliable  source  of 
information  obtainable  in  this  strange  fairy-land. 


The  San  Juan  Valley.  11 

From  these  idiographio  paintings  we  learn 
that  the  Aztecs,  or  Mexicans,  entered  the  valley 
from  the  north  about  1200  A.  D.  Before  the 
Aztecs  came,  the  valley  was  occupied  by  the 
Chicimecs,  and  before  they  had  pitched  their 
tents  around  their  capital  hill,  Chapultepec,  the 
Toltecs  had  ruled  supreme. 

The  Toltecs,  being  exiled  from  Tollan,  their 
ancient  capital  near  lake  Tulare,  wandered  a 
hundred  and  twenty  years,  until,  in  667,  A.  D., 
they  came  to  the  bank  of  a river,  where  they 
founded  another  city  which  they  called  Tollan, 
or  Tula,  in  honor  of  their  ancient  capital.  The 
ruins  of  this  ancient  city  lie  twenty-five  miles 
from  the  city  of  Mexico.  During  the  reign  of  their 
eighth  king,  a famine  drove  the  Toltecs  south, 
whither  many  emigrated  to  Yucatan  and  Guate- 
mala, where  the  Toltec  language  is  still  spoken. 
But  before  the  Toltecs,  there  lived  in  Yucatan 
the  Maya  race,  the  most  ancient  in  Mexico, 
whose  tradition  dates  to  the  year  793  B.C.,  when 
they  arrived  in  Yucan  by  water  from  Tulapam. 
Here  tradition  is  lost  until  we  examine  the 
ancient  ruins  and  pyramids  of  Uxmal  and 
Copan,  whose  walls  are  nine  feet  thick  and  cov- 
ered with  the  finest  facades  found  in  America ; 
and  then  language  fails  us  as  we  gaze  upon  the 
massive  walls  of  the  pyramid  of  Copan,  contain- 
ing twenty-six  million  cubic  feet  of  stone 
brought  from  a distant  quarry,  whose  base  is 
six  hundred  twenty-four  feet  by  eight  hun- 
dred nine  feet,  and  a tower  one  hundred  eighty- 
four  feet,  built  of  massive  blocks  of  stone,  and 
surmounted  by  two  huge  trees  rooted  in  its 
mold. 

Within  the  inside  are  statues  and  hierogly- 


12  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

phics  and  inscriptions  which  tell  to  the  world 
their  history,  but  they  speak  in  an  unknown 
tongue,  which  may  tell  us  of  their  Tulapam  on 
the  lost  Atlantis.  In  despair,  we  give  up  the 
riddle  of  the  first  people  of  Mexico,  and  take  a 
nearer  view  of  the  present  inhabitants.  The 
country  is  divided  into  three  parts — the  coast 
region  called  tierra  calienta , where  the  tropical 
sun  makes  life  a burden,  and  engenders  that 
scourge  of  Mexico,  el  vomito , or  yellow  fever. 

Midway  between  the  coast  and  the  mountain 
is  the  tierra  templada , where  the  mean  tempera- 
ture is  68°  F.  The  tierra  fria,  or  cold  country,  is 
the  plateau  which  caps  the  crest  of  the  Cordil- 
leras, so  different  from  the  mountains  of  the 
rest  of  the  world  that  a carriage  road  was  built 
for  eight  hundred  miles  along  the  crest  of  the 
mountains,  without  the  service  of  an  engineer. 

Here  the  mean  temperature  is  68°  F.,  and  on 
account  of  the  altitude  rain  seldom  falls,  and, 
where  it  does  fall,  the  porous  amygdaloid  rocks 
absorb  it  so  quickly  that  the  plateau  is  a verit- 
able desert,  where  the  cactus  and  other  thorny 
plants  have  taken  possession  of  soil  and  rock 
alike.  What  adds  more  than  anything  else  to 
its  barrenness,  is  the  utter  lack  of  forest  tree  or 
green  grass.  Everywhere,  for  miles  and  miles 
of  landscape,  the  eye  meets  only  the  bare  rock 
and  brown  earth,  with  here  and  there  the  ever- 
present cactus  and  its  kind. 

What  wonder  is  it  that  nearly  all  these 
plateau  people  are  beggars,  when  the  water  for 
their  very  existence  must  be  drawn  from  the 
locomotive  tanks  each  day  as  the  train  passes  ? 
Far  across  the  treeless  plain  they  see  the  smoke 
of  the  locomotive,  and  from  every  adobe  hut  and 


The  San  Juan  Valley. 


13 


straw-thatched  jackal  swarm  the  eager-eyed 
women,  carrying  the  empty  five-gallon  cans  of 
the  Standard  Oil  Company,  or  their  smaller  ollas 
of  burnt  earthenware. 

To  supply  that  horde  would  be  to  disable  the 
train,  so  the  fireman  fills  a number  and  again 
mounts  his  engine  amid  the  silent  looks  of 
anguish  from  the  disappointed  faces  that  plead 
more  eloquently  than  words.  Yet  there  are 
whole  townships  of  this  desert,  fenced  in  with 
stone  walls,  and  upon  these  haciendas  the 
rancheros  grow  rich  off  their  herds  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  poor  peons,  and  the  source  of  their 
wealth  is  the  prickly  pear. 

The  thick,  fleshy  leaf  is  both  food  and  water 
to  the  starving  cattle.  Where  herds  are  small, 
the  herder,  with  a huge  knife  or  machete,  cuts 
the  cruel  thorns  from  the  leaves  or  singes  them 
in  a great  bonfire;  but  on  the  vast  estates  the 
cattle  must,  from  necessity,  get  their  food  with- 
out help.  It  may  be  curious  to  know  how  these 
leaves  can  furnish  water  in  a country  where  it 
rarely  rains.  The  reason  is,  the  skin  is  so  tough 
it  does  not  lose  any  water  by  evaporation,  and 
it  is  thus  able  to  carry  water  a year  or  more 
without  additional  rain.  This  cactus  grows  to 
the  height  of  fifteen  feet,  with  innumerable 
branches  armed  with  needles  nearly  as  long  as 
your  finger,  and  it  bears  bunches  of  fruit  about 
the  size  and  shape  of  lemons,  called  tunas. 
This  is  the  staff  of  life  for  the  poor  people  on 
the  plains,  and  without  it,  existence  on  the 
plateau,  for  man  or  beast  would  be  impossible. 

But  this  country  was  not  always  a desert. 
Before  the  coming  of  the  Spaniards  it  was 
clothed  in  verdure,  but  “it  was  not  like  the 


14  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

plains  of  Old  Castile,”  and  so  the  reckless  gold 
hunter  turned  the  beautiful  plateau  into  a 
Sahara,  in  which  the  silver  mines  now  pay  from 
eleven  to  sixteen  dollars  a cord  for  wood,  brought 
on  the  backs  of  diminutive  burros,  and  five  dol- 
lars and  seventy-five  cents  for  a hundred  and 
fifty  pounds  of  corn. 

It  is  purely  a lack  of  thrift  that  no  effort  is 
now  made  to  restore  the  land  to  its  original  in- 
heritance. The  eucalyptus  tree  of  California 
has  been  tried  in  many  places  and  thrives  well, 
and  with  proper  protection  would  soon  grow  a 
forest.  The  present  wood  supply  is  the  mes- 
quite,  which  never  grows  taller  than  a peach 
tree,  and  the  average  size  stick  of  wood  it  fur- 
nishes is  but  little  larger  than  a beer  bottle. 
Yet,  with  all  its  scarcity,  the  locomotives  use 
it,  because  coal  from  the  United  States  costs 
twenty-one  dollars  a ton.  This  wood  is  packed 
on  the  backs  of  dozens  of  little  burros,  and  is 
carried  as  far  as  a dozen  miles  for  delivery. 

This  is  a land  without  chimneys,  for  two 
reasons:  The  climate  is  not  cold  enough  to  re- 
quire fires,  and  if  it  was,  the  poor  people  would 
never  be  able  to  purchase  wood.  The  little 
cooking  that  is  done,  is  accomplished  by  little 
charcoal  fires  in  braziers. 

If  all  this  country  was  a plateau,  then  my 
tale  would  not  be  told,  but  there  can  be  no 
mountains  without  valleys,  and  it  is  these  val- 
leys that  make  Mexico  one  of  the  most  delight- 
ful spots  in  this  country.  In  the  lovely  valley 
of  the  noisy  little  San  Juan  River,  rests  the 
beautiful  city  of  Monterey — “King  Mountain.  ’ ’ 

Situated  at  the  foot  of  the  Sierra  Madres, 
surrounded  by  cloud-covered  peaks,  there  seems 


The  San  Juan  Valley. 


15 


to  be  not  enough  room  for  its  seventy-five 
thousand  inhabitants,  as  it  first  bursts  upon  the 
vision  through  the  towering  masts  of  Yucca 
palms.  It  is  wedged  between  “La  Silla,”  Sad- 
dle Mountain,  and  “Las  Mitras,”  the  Bishop’s 
Mitre ; but  this  is  only  the  first  trick  which  this 
clear  and  illusive  atmosphere  plays  upon  the 
traveler  from  the  lowlands. 

The  perspective  seems  unduly  fore-shortened, 
and  mountain  peaks  which  are  really  twenty-five 
miles  away,  appear  to  be  within  an  hour’s  walk. 
After  your  law  of  optics  has  been  restored,  you 
discover  that  no  prettier  spot  could  have  been 
chosen  for  a city  than  that  for  Monterey. 

Founded  three  hundred  and  thirty-five  years 
ago,  upon  an  elevation  1700  feet  above  the  sea, 
the  seasons  are  so  nearly  alike  that  December  is 
as  pleasant  as  May. 

In  the  western  part  of  the  city  are  the  homes 
of  the  wealthy;  beautiful  houses  in  shaded 
gardens  where  tropical  birds  and  flowers  have 
their  home,  and  where  spraying  fountains  and 
living  streams  of  water  remind  one  of  the  tales 
of  fairy-land.  Just  beyond  these  homes  is  the 
Bishop’s  Palace,  the  last  fortification  to  succumb 
to  the  American  army  of  invasion  when  the 
city  was  taken.  Around  the  palace  are  many 
cannon,  some  half-buried  beneath  the  soil,  and 
one  with  the  unbelched  shot  still  imbedded  in 
its  throat  where,  for  fifty  years  it  has  lain  in 
mute  testimony  of  that  unequal  struggle  which 
General  Grant  called  “The  most  unholy  war  in 
all  history.” 

Across  the  valley,  three  miles  as  the  crow  flies, 
are  the  famous  hot  springs  of  Topo  Chico,  at  the 
base  of  a mountain  of  black  marble,  which,  in 


16 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


building  material,  shows  a beautiful  stripe  of 
alabastine  whiteness. 

It  was  here  the  daughter  of  Montezuma  and 
the  elite  of  the  Valley  of  Mexico  came  to  bathe 
and  chase  dull  care  away,  after  the  whirl  of  the 
court  in  the  capital  city  of  Tenochtitlan,  long 
before  the  coming  of  the  white  man. 

At  a temperature  of  106°  F.  the  water  bursts 
forth  in  a heroic  stream  that  bears  testimony  of 
the  intense  fires  that  hurl  it  forth. 

This  reminds  us  that  there  is  hardly  a city 
in  Mexico  that  has  not  its  hot  water  baths,  and 
it  need  not  excite  surprise,  when  three  of  the 
loftiest  volcanoes  in  the  world  stand  guard  over 
the  valley ; Orizaba  in  the  east  and  Popocatapetl 
and  Ixtacihuatl  in  the  south,  the  highest  stand- 
ing 17,782  feet  above  the  sea. 

The  water  of  Topo  Chico,  after  serving  the 
baths,  is  carried  through  the  valley  in  irrigating 
ditches.  Leaving  the  horse-cars  which  brought 
us  from  the  city,  we  are  enticed  across  the 
beautiful  meadows  to  a grove  of  palms  and 
tropical  flowers,  and  find  ourselves  at  the  lofty 
walls  of  an  enclosure  which  at  first  gives  the 
impression  of  a penitentiary,  but  which  you 
afterwards  learn  is  a “ Campo  Santo,”  or  ceme- 
tery. 

We  walk  around  the  forbidding  walls  until  we 
come  to  a massive  iron  gate,  and  through  its 
opening  we  see  a forest  of  wooden  crosses  which 
tell  their  own  tale,  but  the  sexton  will  tell 
another. 

“ A relic  of  by-gone  days  was  he, 

And  his  hair  was  white  as  the  foaming  sea.” 

He  had  dug  a row  of  twenty-four  graves, 
twenty-three  of  which  were  open,  but  the  other 


The  San  Juan  Valley. 


17 


was  filled  to  the  brim  with  bones  and 
scraps  of  clothing  taken  from  the  others. 
A peep  into  these  revealed  cross-sections 
of  leg-bones  here,  two  ribs  and  a hand  there, 
with  a jawbone  or  a vertebra  lying  in  the  bottom. 
The  sexton  explained  that  a person  may  rest  in 
peace  for  the  period  of  five  years,  and  if,  after 
that  time  his  relatives  do  not  pay  a tax  on  his 
grave,  his  resurrection  day  will  come  to  make 
room  for  newer  tenants  and  better  renters. 

And  so  on  for  a hundred  years  or  more  they 
will  begin  at  the  gate  and  dig  graves  and  collect 
taxes  until  they  reach  the  rear  wTall,  and  then 
start  over.  If  everybody  paid,  the  yard  would 
remain  intact  and  the  sexton  would  have  to 
start  a new  farm;  but  with  the  average  Mexican, 
the  cost  of  remaining  alive  is  a far  more  serious 
question  than  remaining  dead  for  an  orthodox 
resurrection. 

He  much  prefers  using  his  spare  cash  during 
those  five  years  in  buying  masses  from  the  priest 
to  get  the  soul  of  his  late  departed  out  of  Pur- 
gatory, and  if  he  succeeds  in  that,  the  bones 
may  go;  so  every  five  years  he  is  prepared  to 
see  his  friend’s  lodging  aired  and  let  to  new 
lodgers.  The  wealthy  rent  tombs  which  are 
built  in  the  outer  wall,  and  here  they  can  peep 
through  the  glass  doors  and  see  the  dust  of  their 
fathers  sifting  down  upon  the  ashes  of  their 
grandfathers  to  the  third  and  fourth  generation. 
The  sexton  was  not  very  careful  in  removing 
his  renters,  and  would  leave  a leg  in  No.  7 and 
carry  the  other  remains  to  24.  I asked  him  if 
that  would  not  complicate  matters  a little  in  the 
final  resurrection.  He  assured  me  that  Purgatory 
was  the  place  to  right  such  small  matters,  and 


18  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

if  the  priest  was  paid  enough  he  would  get  them 
all  together.  That  reminds  me  of  a wealthy 
man  who  died,  and  the  priest,  with  an  eye  to 
business,  called  upon  the  son  of  the  late  departed, 
and  impressed  upon  him  the  urgency  of  paying 
for  enough  masses  to  take  his  father’s  soul  from 
Purgatory.  The  son  asked  how  much  would  do 
it.  The  priest,  after  a careful  calculation  said: 
“ He  was  a pretty  hard  case  and  no  less  than 
five  hundred  dollars  will  move  him,”  and  the 
son  paid  the  money. 

After  a while  they  met  again.  “ And  how  is 
my  father  getting  along?  ” asked  the  son.  “You 
see,”  said  the  priest,  “your  father  was  in  the 
middle  of  Purgatory  and  I had  to  move  him  a 
long  way,  but  I have  him  towards  the  outer  edge 
now,  and  I think  two  hundred  dollars  more  will 
pass  him  out.”  The  money  was  paid  without 
protest,  and  this  so  encouraged  the  priest  that 
he  resolved  to  make  one  more  deal. 

“And  how  is  my  father  now?”  was  asked 
when  they  met  again.  “Well,  I have  him  right 
at  the  edge  of  Purgatory  with  one  foot  over  the 
line,  and  I think  another  fifty  dollars  will  pass 
him  into  heaven.” 

“ O no  !”  said  the  son.  “You  don’t  know  my 
father.  If  he  has  one  foot  in  heaven,  St.  Peter 
and  all  Purgatory  can’t  keep  him  out  and  so  I 
will  save  this  fifty  dollars.” 

As  the  sexton  and  I talked,  a funeral  proces- 
sion entered  the  gate,  consisting  of  two  men  and 
two  women  of  the  poorer  class.  On  the  head  of 
one  man  was  a dead  child  stretched  upon  a 
board.  The  other  came  to  the  sexton  for  in- 
structions. He  pointed  them  to  a row  of 
thirteen  small  graves,  dug  about  two  feet  deep 


The  San  Juan  Valley.  19 

and  two  of  them  were  filled  with  the  hones  from 
the  others. 

The  child  was  taken  from  the  board  and 
chucked  in,  but  was  found  to  be  several  inches 
too  long  for  the  grave,  so  its  head  was  bent  up 
until  the  pall-bearer  could  gouge  out  enough 
dirt  to  admit  the  body  straight,  and  then  enough 
dirt  and  bones  were  raked  in  to  cover  it  a foot  and 
a half.  Meanwhile,  the  women  sat  upon  neigh- 
boring graves,  chatting  and  smoking  cigarettes 
until  the  grave  was  filled.  Thirteen  minutes 
after  they  had  entered  they  were  gone,  leaving 
the  sexton  and  myself  alone  with  the  dead. 
Within  ten  minutes  another  procession  en- 
tered, preceded  by  a company  of  priests  with 
lighted  candles,  followed  by  a hearse  with  a velvet 
covered  coffin.  Behind  the  hearse  walked  a 
procession  of  young  men  with  lighted  candles, 
and  then  I knew  a man  was  dead,  for  no  women 
attend  the  funerals  of  men. 

On  entering,  the  body  was  taken  from  the 
coffin  and  buried,  and  the  coffin  returned  to  the 
undertaker.  Wood  is  too  scarce  in  Mexico  to 
buy  coffins  when  a rented  one  will  do  as  well, 
and  besides,  it  would  give  the  sexton  too  much 
trouble  in  his  impromptu  resurrections  if  he  had 
to  dig  through  hard  wood  boards. 

If  you  should  ask  these  people  why  they  dig 
over  and  over  a few  acres  of  enclosed  ground 
when  just  outside  there  are  leagues  and  leagues 
of  ground  that  will  not  grow  anything  else  but 
a good  crop  of  graves,  they  would  shrug  their 
shoulders  and  say:  “ Quien  sabeV  ’ — who  knows — 
with  that  untranslatable  gesture  which  forbids 
other  question.  Should  you  ask  the  tax  col- 
lector, he  might  look  over  his  balance-sheet  and 


20 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


give  you  an  answer  about  how  much  it  takes  to 
run  the  government. 

Nothing  better  illustrates  the  stature  of  these 
people  than  the  death,  of  an  American.  He  was 
a conductor,  and  the  railroad  employees  deter- 
mined to  give  him  an  orthodox  Christian  burial, 
but  no  coffin  could  be  found  long  enough,  'so  he 
was  put  into  one  with  both  ends  knocked  out. 
Then  came  the  inspection,  and  official  announce- 
ment and  permit,  and  enough  red  tape  to  consume 
two  whole  days  and  all  the  patience  of  the 
American  colony,  and  involved  enough  writing 
to  have  chartered  the  city. 

All  cemeteries  are  reached  by  mule  car ; and 
for  those  who  cannot  afford  a hearse,  a funeral 
car  and  as  many  empties  as  are  needed,  are 
always  to  be  had.  The  funeral  car  is  painted 
black  or  white,  with  a raised  dais  to  support 
the  coffin,  and  in  a sweeping  gallop  the  cortege 
is  soon  at  the  cemetery  gates  on  schedule  time. 

All  head-boards  and  grave-stones  are  embel- 
lished with  the  ominous  black  letters  R.  I.  P. 
They  tell  me  that  is  Latin  for  “May  he  rest  in 
peace;  ” but  I think  they  ought  to  add,  “For 
five  years.” 

The  cathedral  in  all  Mexican  cities  is  the  one 
place  of  attraction.  The  one  here  was  used  as 
a powder  magazine  during  the  Mexican  war, 
and  the  walls  still  bear  the  grim  ear-marks  of 
cannon  balls. 

The  finest  church  here  is  Nuesta  Senora  del 
Roble,  which  is  old,  but  seems  never  to  be  finished, 
and  thereby  hangs  a tale. 

No  church  property  is  taxable  here  until  it  is 
finished,  so  the  astute  priests  rarely  finish 
one.  There  are  churches  here  whose  foundations 


The  San  Juan  Valley. 


21 


were  laid  three  hundred  years  ago,  and  as  you 
stand  in  the  grand  nave,  bits  of  stone  falling 
around  you  will  be  the  only  evidence  of  the 
workmen  two  hundred  feet  above. 

The  stone  used  is  almost  as  porous  and  as 
light  as  chalk,  and  responds  readily  to  the  chisel 
for  ornamentation,  but  hardens  on  exposure. 
These  building  blocks  are  nearly  always  two 
feet  square,  and  are  built  into  the  wall  rough, 
and  with  scaffolding  built  around;  the  stone- 
mason, with  mallet  and  chisel,  will  work  for 
years,  creating  an  ornamentation  that  is  a joy 
and  beauty  forever.  Patience  here  is  a cardinal 
virtue,  and  time  has  no  value  whatever,  and  to 
their  credit,  be  it  said,  that  these  decoraters  are 
artists,  and  their  work  is  beautiful.  A man  will 
begin  work  on  a hundred  year  job  with  as  much 
sang-froid  as  though  it  was  to  last  a month. 

A workman  will  take  an  intricate  pattern  of 
wall-paper,  and,  with  a paint-pot  and  brush, 
will  spread  that  design  over  ten  thousand  square 
yards  of  surface,  and  at  a distance  of  ten  feet 
you  cannot  detect  his  work  from  genuine  wall- 
paper. The  perspective  is  so  deceptive  in  one 
church  in  Monterey,  that  you  almost  run  into 
the  rear  wall  before  you  are  aware  that  the  long 
aisle  is  a painted  one.  You  must  stand  or  kneel 
in  the  churches,  as  no  seats  are  provided.  One 
church  in  Puebla  is  the  only  exception.  Most 
of  the  churches  are  bedizened  with  cheap  gew- 
gaws and  tinsel,  which  gives  you  an  impression 
of  a child’s  playhouse. 

The  church  of  San  Francisco  is  the  oldest  in 
town,  and  its  bells  were  cast  in  Spain. 

A large  painting  in  there  which  is  meant  for 
the  piece  de  resistance , represents  Christ  with  a 


22 


Land  Without  Chimney . 


Spanish  fan  in  his  hand,  and  the  Madonna 
draped  in  a Spanish  cloak  of  the  vintage  of  1520. 
Another  represents  the  Shepherds  with  violins 
in  their  hands  looking  at  the  Babe  in  the  manger. 

It  all  reminds  me  of  February  22,  in  New 
York,  when  national  proclivities  will  rise  against 
time  and  circumstances,  and  George  Washing- 
ton will  blaze  with  all  his  calm  dignity  from 
the  Teuton’s  shop  window  with  a huge  glass  of 
lager  in  his  hand,  and  the  citizen  from  County 
Cork  flashes  him  forth  from  his  aldermanic 
window  with  an  extra  width  to  his  supermax- 
illary, while  Hop  Long  Quick  displays  him  with 
his  weekly  washee  washee,  sporting  a three  foot 
queue. 

I suppose  all  this  proves  that  we  think  a lot 
more  of  ourselves  than  we  do  of  others,  and  of 
our  nationality  : “My  country,  may  she  ever  be 
right,  but  right  or  wrong,  my  country.” 

I suppose  local  color  is  everything  to  the  am- 
bitious artist,  and  in  making  the  rounds  of  the 
different  churches,  the  amount  of  dripping  gore 
you  encounter  in  the  transit  from  the  San- 
hedrin to  Calvary  is  appalling.  Were  you  to 
meet  the  dramatis  personae,  in  the  flesh,  and 
away  from  their  settings,  you  would  be  in  doubt 
as  to  whether  they  were  just  from  the  foot-ball 
game,  or  a delegation  from  Darktown  Alley 
“After  de  Ball.”  Beyond  the  city  and  near 
the  foothills  is  the  modest  little  chapel  of 
Guadalupe. 

Around  it  is  a grove  of  maguey  plants  with 
their  long,  fleshy  leaves,  just  as  inviting  to  the 
jack-knife  of  the  Mexican  boy  as  a white  beech 
tree  was  to  you  when  you  were  loitering  around 
the  country  church.  Nor  w'ere  these  boys  less 


The  San  Juan  Valley. 


23 


boys  than  others,  for  all  over  these  telltale  leaves 
are  inscriptions,  some  cut  “When  you  and  I 
were  boys,  Tom,  just  twenty  years  ago.”  Nor 
were  all  these  inscriptions  outbursts  of  piety 
and  consecration  to  the  church.  Some  still 
told  the  old,  old  story,  that  the  lovely  Ramona 
was  La  alma  de  mi  vidi , mi  dulce  co?'izon, 
the  soul  of  his  life  and  his  sweetheart  forever. 

I sincerely  hope  Ramona  got  the  letter  and 
rewarded  the  young  man  for  his  splendid  sculp- 
turing, but  I doubt  if  he  “sculped”  all  the 
things  I read. 

Some  were  avowmls  to  the  service  of  the  Vir- 
gin, and  I know  of  no  place  better  calculated  to 
inspire  such  thoughts  of  worship  than  the  little 
chapel  of  Guadalupe. 

Beyond  the  chapel  was  a young  man  quarry- 
ing stone,  and  in  his  idle  hours  he  had  chiseled 
out  a small  miniature  chapel,  about  three  feet 
long  and  similar  in  design  to  Guadalupe.  Per- 
haps he  was  the  one  who  wrote  the  pious  in- 
scription, but  he  looked  just  about  old  enough 
to  have  boiled  over  with  that  effervescence  about 
Ramona. 

While  he  was  at  work,  I slyly  investigated 
his  means  of  saving  grace.  Within  the  little 
chapel  were  candles  and  tinsels  of  gold  leaf  and 
silver,  and  symbols  made  of  pewter  and  tin,  and 
bits  of  broken  crockery  and  other  childish  play- 
things, while  around  it  were  planted  a row  of 
resurrection  plants. 

This  botanical  wonder,  Selaginella  lepido- 
phylla,  grows  upon  the  bare  rocks,  and  may  be 
kept  a dozen  years  in  a trunk,  but  when  placed 
in  a saucer  of  water,  immediately  changes  its 
grey  color  for  green,  and  unfolds  its  fronds  like 


24  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

a thing  of  life.  When  taken  from  the  water  it 
closes  up  like  a chestnut-burr,  and  continues  in 
its  dormant  state  till  water  is  given  it,  when  it 
responds  every  time.  Thi3  jToung  man  having 
all  this  paraphernalia  as  a means  of  worship 
may  be  strange,  but  what  about  the  church  from 
which  he  drew  his  pattern  ? 

What  the  lower  classes  here  do  not  know 
about  the  bible  would  fill  a book. 

The  city  of  Monterey  is  supplied  with  water 
from  a famous  spring  in  the  heart  of  the  city, 
which  also  gives  birth  to  the  Santa  Lucia,  which 
is  crossed  by  numerous  bridges,  and  is  the  pub- 
lic bath-house  and  laundry.  A whole  company 
of  soldiers  will  march  from  the  barracks  down 
the  principal  street,  and  the  first  bridge  they 
reach,  down  they  go  into  the  water,  and  every 
man  will  take  off  his  shirt,  wade  in  and  begin 
his  laundering.  In  all  likelihood,  they  will  find 
as  many  women  already  in  the  water  enjoying  a 
bath,  and  they  will  all  sit  in  the  sun  and  smoke 
cigarettes  together  while  their  clothes  dry. 

The  little  proprieties  which  most  people  attach 
to  a bath  do  not  seem  to  trouble  these  innocent 
people,  especially  when  an  orthodox  bath-house 
charges  a quarter  of  a dollar  for  what  the  city 
gives  free  gratis  for  nothing.  If  cleanliness  is 
next  to  godliness,  these  people  must  be  away  up 
in  the  line  of  promotion,  for  from  sunrise  to 
sunset,  I have  seen  every  rod  of  this  canal  a 
moving  panorama  of  black-haired  swimmers, 
men,  women  and  children,  while  the  banks  were 
white  with  drying  laundry. 

The  painter  who  first  made  that  picture  about 
the  mermaids  sitting  upon  a rock  and  combing 
their  raven  locks,  must  have  been  standing  on  a 


BATHING  AT  AGUASCALIENTES 


The  San  Juan  Valley. 


25 


bridge  here  and  got  his  idea  from  the  Mexican 
houris  trying  to  dry  their  hair  before  they — 
well,  while  waiting  for  their  clothes  to  get  dry. 

The  puenta  Purisima  is  the  bridge  where  a 
wing  of  the  Mexican  army  withstood  Gen. 
Taylor’s  division.  The  legend  says  that  the 
image  of  the  Virgin  hovered  over  the  Mexican 
army  and  enabled  it  to  do  wonders,  and  that 
they  re-enacted  the  old  story  of  Thermopylae. 
Below  the  old  bridge  is  a perpetual  laundry.  A 
Mexican  laundry  is  a study  in  white,  and  when 
you  have  mastered  the  details,  it  differs  not  one 
jot  or  tittle  from  all  the  other  laundries  in  the 
republic. 

Like  Mahomet’s  mountain,  the  Mexican  laun- 
dress always  carries  her  clothes  to  the  water, 
and  rests  upon  her  knees  by  the  brink.  She 
casts  a garment  into  the  stream  until  it  is  wet, 
and  then  wads  it  upon  a flat  stone,  and  soaps  it 
until  it  is  a mass  of  foam.  She  then  puts  it  in 
a wooden  tray,  such  as  we  use  in  our  kitchen, 
and  rubs  all  the  soap  out  of  it,  and  immediately 
empties  the  water  and  repeats  the  process. 

If  she  dips  a piece  a dozen  times,  she  soaps  it 
just  as  often,  and  empties  the  soapsuds  after 
each  rubbing,  and  never,  never  uses  the  soap- 
suds a second  time. 

This  is  very  hard  on  a bar  of  soap,  but  the 
linen  is  returned  to  you  as  white  as  snow. 

There  are  many  Americans  in  Monterey,  and 
they  are  trying  very  hard  to  implant  their 
American  customs  upon  the  country,  one  of 
which  is  the  color  line  in  public  places. 

All  the  streets  are  paved  with  smooth,  round 
cobble  stones  from  the  mountain  gorges.  They 
are  about  the  size  and  shape  of  a butter-dish, 


26 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


and  they  make  just  about  as  smooth  a pavement 
as  so  many  acres  of  cannon  balls  would  make, 
buried  half  way  in  cement,  and  meeting  about 
as  closely  as  round  objects  usually  meet. 

I can  think  of  no  American  equivalent,  except 
a corduroy  log  bridge,  or  driving  across  the 
railroad  tracks  in  a switch-yard. 

The  gutter  is  always  in  the  middle  of  the 
street,  which  is  a foot  or  more  lower  than  the 
rest.  An  American  has  gained  a concession  to 
lay  one  street  with  Texas  vitrified  brick,  and 
let  us  hope  it  is  a fore-runner  of  others.  But, 
come  to  think  of  it,  it  might  work  a hardship 
to  a time-honored  custom ; an  innovation  to  some 
might  prove  an  iconoclast  to  the  church. 

It  has  long  been  a custom  during  Passion 
week  and  other  fiestas,  for  the  priests  to  prescribe 
a penance  for  those  who  confessed  to  a sin  in 
thought  or  word  or  deed  either  in  the  past, 
present  or  future  tense;  and  one  of  the  favorite 
punishments  is  to  require  a number  of  maidens 
to  walk  down  a street  leading  to  a church,  and 
return,  crawling  upon  their  bare  knees  to  the 
church  to  be  absolved.  As  they  would  leave  a 
trail  of  blood  over  the  cruel  stones,  some  agonized 
lover  would  cast  his  zerape  before  his  beloved 
and  beseech  her  to  let  him  lead  it  in  front  of 
her  to  the  church  and  spare  the  laceration ; but 
poor  ignorant  creatures,  they  have  been  taught 
that  this  is  the  only  way  to  have  their  sins 
forgiven. 

I notice  I never  see  men  in  these  pilgrimages, 
and  it  must  prove  that  the  men  have  more  hard 
sense  than  the  women,  or  else  the  priests  have 
their  own  reasons  for  appointing  women  only. 

Now  what  would  a penance  amount  to  on  a 


The  San  Juan  Valley. 


27 


San  Antonio  brick  pavement  ? Just  a picnic, 
no  more.  It  takes  a regulation  Monterey  pave- 
ment to  draw  blood  in  the  first  round.  I like 
the  Texas  innovation,  but  I shall  vote  to  keep 
one  of  these  threshing-machine  streets  for  the 
church  and  auld  lang  syne. 

In  Monterey  are  a number  of  smelting  works, 
where  the  lead  and  silver  ore  is  reduced  to  pigs, 
and  here  we  see  the  applied  difference  in  wages. 

The  hardest  work  in  the  smelter  is  to  weigh 
in  and  deliver  to  the  furnace  a thousand  pounds 
of  ore  every  fifteen  minutes,  and  this  is  not 
unskilled  labor  either.  The  man  has  a two- 
wheeled cart  into  which  he  must  weigh  in  600 
pounds  of  ore,  and  400  pounds  of  coke  and  flux 
material.  Those  ores  are  perhaps  fifty  yards 
away  at  the  dump,  and  if  the  ore  is  very  refrac- 
tory, he  must  mix  four  or  five  grades  in  different 
proportions.  His  cart  must  be  always  on  scales 
as  he  goes  from  one  pile  to  the  other,  and  he 
must  make  four  trips  an  hour,  and  for  this  he 
cannot  possibly  make  over  a dollar  a day,  and 
the  regulation  wages  for  even  the  hardest  work 
is  67^  cents  for  a maximum,  if  he  is  able  to 
make  eight  full  hours. 

I saw  an  Indian  boy  who  had  become  so  ex- 
pert, he  could  load  his  cart  with  three  or  four 
different  ores  and  not  miss  the  amount  by  more 
than  ten  pounds  w’hen  weighed. 

The  engines  never  stop  night  nor  day,  except 
to  collect  the  rich  gold  dust  which  collects  in 
the  flues.  It  is  a very  dangerous,  suffocating 
job,  which  a wThite  man  always  gets  ten  dollars 
for,  and  a Mexican  five  reals , or  67^  cents. 

Two  railroads  pass  Monterey.  The  Mexican 
Central  to  Tampico  on  the  Gulf,  and  the  Mexi- 


28 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


can  National  to  the  City ; and  on  the  latter  we 
now  leave  for  Saltillo  and  the  battle-field  of  Buena 
Vista. 


CHAPTER  II. 


SALTILLO  AND  THE  PLATEAU. 

ROM  Monterey  to  Saltillo  is  sixty-seven 


miles  as  the  crow  flies,  5,300  feet  in  ele- 


JL  vation  as  the  barometer  creeps,  and  fifty 
rise  to  the  mile  as  the  train  runs.  Up,  up  we 
go  with  two  powerful  engines  to  the  train,  and 
the  ever-present  query,  “If  the  train  should 
break  in  two,  where  would  I land  ? ” 

This  is  no  idle  question  either,  and  to  reduce 
possibilities,  the  Pullmans  follow  the  baggage, 
the  first-class  cars  next,  and  the  second  and 
third-class  last.  This  is  very  necessary  in 
steep  grades  and  sharp  curves,  where  the  heavy 
Pullmans  with  their  momentum  would  always 
endeavor  to  strike  off  segments  and  chords 
across  the  arcs. 

Up  we  go  between  mountains  bare  of  vegeta- 
tion, which  enables  you  to  see  them  in  their 
naked  grandeur  and  sublimity.  You  very  soon 
conclude  that  the  train  is  on  the  trail  of  the 
little  river,  and  trying  to  track  it  out  of  the 
canon,  and  you  also  discover  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  have  built  the  road  over  any  other  route 
than  the  bed  of  the  noisy,  fretful  little  San 
Juan.  We  pass  through  the  canon  with  the  lit- 
tle stream  first  on  one  side  and  then  on  the 
other,  clinging  to  the  side  of  the  mountain  by  a 


29 


30  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

path  that  hardly  saves  the  train  from  destruc- 
tion by  the  overhanging  rocks,  but  ever  upward. 
Indeed,  railroad  men  say  that  when  a car  breaks 
loose  from  the  yard  in  Saltillo,  it  runs  all  the 
way  back  to  Monterey.  I don’t  believe  it.  It 
might  come  part  of  the  way,  but  I think  before 
it  got  half  way  down  that  grade,  it  would  leave 
the  track  and  make  the  rest  of  the  journey  in 
mid-air,  and  in  considerable  less  than  a mile  a 
minute,  too. 

On  the  way  up  we  pass  the  little  peubla  of 
Garcia,  where  a peak  of  the  mountain  has  an 
opening  through  it,  as  though  some  Titanic 
cannon-ball  had  crashed  its  way  through  there, 
showing  the  sunlight  on  the  other  side.  As  we 
pass,  all  good  Catholics  take  off  their  hats  and 
cross  themselves.  Far  up  the  peaks,  tiny  spirals  of 
smoke  show  where  the  charcoal  burners  have 
found  some  isolated  shrubs  and  are  reducing 
them  to  merchantable  form.  In  the  cleft  of  the 
rocks  are  also  to  be  seen  the  tuna-bearing  cac- 
ti, which  the  half-clad  Indian  women  are 
gathering  for  food.  At  last  the  grade  is  sur- 
mounted and  we  reach  Saltillo,  the  capital  of 
the  State  of  Coahuila  to  which  once  also  was  at- 
tached the  State  of  Texas. 

One  of  the  causes  of  the  Texas  revolution 
was  that  the  Texans  had  to  go  to  Saltillo,  fully 
a thousand  miles  from  Red  River,  to  attend  to 
their  legal  business.  They  asked  for  a separate 
state,  and  at  the  head  of  the  Texas  army  they 
kindly  persuaded  Santa  Anna  to  grant  it.  There 
is  great  persuasive  power  in  a gun. 

The  train  passes  through  a long  street,  lined 
on  both  sides  with  gardens  of  peaches  and  ap- 
ples and  oranges  and  bananas  and  figs.  The 


Saltillo  and  the  Plateau. 


31 


altitude  is  a mile  above  sea-level,  so  that  the 
heat  of  summer  is  never  known,  and  one  must 
sleep  under  blankets,  even  in  July  and  August. 
It  is  a favorite  summer  resort  for  those  who 
want  a climate  with  no  changes  whatever.  The 
city  has  a population  of  20,000,  but  no  horse- 
cars,  so  you  take  your  foot  in  your  hand  and  go 
off  to  see  the  town.  There  is  but  little  to  see, 
but  of  course  there  is  the  Grand  Plaza,  all 
Mexican  cities  have  that,  and  of  course  the 
Cathedral  faces  the  Plaza,  there  is  no  exception 
to  that  rule.  The  town  is  300  years  old,  but 
the  Cathedral  w*as  not  begun  till  1745,  and  the 
main  body  was  completed  in  1800. 

The  towers  were  begun  in  1873,  and  may  con- 
tinue a hundred  years  longer.  In  keeping  ’with 
the  custom  of  the  country,  the  churches  must 
be  as  fine  as  time  and  money  can  make  them, 
and  the  people  give  both,  freely.  The  Alameda 
is  as  beautiful  and  as  restful  as  one  could  wish, 
with  fountains  and  flowers,  and  birds  and  trees 
to  drive  dull  care  away.  I was  honestly  trying 
to  do  this  when  a school  dismissed  near  by,  and 
I called  several  of  the  “ Kids  ” by  to  let  me  look 
at  their  text  books,  which  consisted  of  a Cate- 
chism of  the  Catholic  faith,  and  an  Arithmetic. 
There  must  have  been  nearly  a dozen  boys 
around  me,  when  all  of  a sudden  they  scattered 
like  quails  before  a hawk,  as  a watchful  police- 
man headed  for  us. 

I suppose  he  thought  the  boys  were  about  to 
kidnap  me  and  came  to  my  rescue,  but  he  ex- 
plained that  it  was  a place  of  rest  and  pleasure 
and  “Kids”  were  not  allowed  to  flock  there. 
I flocked  by  myself  for  a half  hour,  and  the 
young  ladies’  school  dismissed  and  they  all 


82  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

passed,  dressed  in  black,  and  with  bare  heads 
generally,  but  several  had  lace  mantillas.  If 
ever  I wanted  to  examine  text-books,  I thought 
now  was  the  time,  but  to  save  my  life  I could 
not  muster  courage  to  ask  that  policeman  if  it 
was  any  harm  for  me  to  flock  anywhere  else  but 
on  that  park  bench,  and  while  I hesitated  the 
dream  vanished — and  so  did  I.  I thought  it 
was  time  to  go  see  Alta  Mira,  the  baths  of  San 
Lorenzo. 

Beyond  the  city  limits  is  a dismantled  old 
fort,  a relic  of  French  occupation.  It  was  a 
very  rude  affair  of  sun-dried  bricks,  and  is  now 
occupied  by  a hermit  and  a vicious  dog  who  de- 
manded backsheesh.  The  who  refers  to  both 
man  and  beast,  for,  after  looking  at  the  persua- 
sive face  and  teeth  of  that  dog,  you  quite 
willingly  pass  over  the  coppers  to  the  old  man. 
I have  never  heard  of  the  couple  using  force  on 
travelers,  but  the  argumentative  look  on  that 
dog’s  face  showed  that  they  understood  each 
other,  and  especially  since  the  isolation  of  the 
fort  encourages  the  presumption. 

Ten  miles  from  Saltillo  is  the  battle-field  of 
Buena  Yista,  where  General  Taylor,  after  a two 
days’  fight,  defeated  the  Mexicans.  After  the 
battle  the  Mexican  women  went  among  the 
wounded,  ministering  to  the  American  as  well 
as  to  the  Mexican  soldiers. 

Whittier  has  made  their  name  immortal  in  his 
beautiful  poem : 

“ THE  ANGELS  OF  BUENA  VISTA.” 
which  closes  with  the  following  lines : 

“ Sink,  O Night,  among  thy  mountains,  let  thy 

cool,  gray  shadows  fall ; 


Saltillo  and  the  Plateau. 


33 


Dying  brothers,  fighting  demons,  drop  thy  curtain 
over  all ! 

Through  the  thickening  winter  twilight,  wide  apart 
the  battle  rolled, 

In  its  sheath  the  sabre  rested,  and  the  cannon’s 
lips  grew  cold. 

“But  the  noble  Mexic  women  still  their  holy  task 
pursued, 

Through  that  long,  dark  night  of  sorrow,  worn  and 
faint  and  lacking  food, 

Over  weak  and  suffering  brothers,  with  a tender 
care  they  hung, 

And  the  dying  foeman  blessed  them  in  a strange 
and  Northern  tongue. 

“ Not  wholly  lost,  O Father!  is  this  evil  world  of 
ours ; 

Upward,  through  its  blood  and  ashes,  spring  afresh 
the  Eden  flowers ; 

From  its  smoking  hell  of  battle,  Love  and  Pity  send 
their  prayer, 

And  still  thy  white-winged  angels  hover  dimly  in 
our  air ! ” 


Near  the  old  French  fort  is  a narrow  stream 
of  water,  precious  as  all  water  is  on  the  plateau. 
Through  irrigating  ditches  it  winds  around  the 
hill  to  the  valley,  through  a winding  street,  among 
adobe  houses,  serving  each  as  it  passes,  as  a 
laundry,  fountain  or  bath-house.  The  people 
on  the  lower  course  did  not  seem  to  care  how 
the  water  had  been  treated  before  it  reached 
them,  but  they  believe  in  the  old  saw : “Where 
ignorance  is  bliss,”  etc. 

Along  the  hard,  sunbaked  street  we  pass  and 
look  in  upon  more  squalor  than  was  ever  dreamed 
of  in  a city.  The  hovels  are  built  of  sun-dried 
brick,  with  no  windows  nor  chimneys  for  venti- 
lation. Within  is  neither  floor  nor  table  nor 
chair  nor  bed  nor  any  piece  of  furniture.  The 


34  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

women  and  children  and  dogs  and  men  all  herd 
together  on  the  bare  floor,  or  at  most  on  straw 
mats.  Neither  shoes  nor  stockings  find  a place 
here.  The  men  wear  a presentable  suit  of  white 
cotton  or  coarse  linen,  and  are  bare-footed,  or 
wear  a pair  of  leather  sandals  on  their  feet. 
These  are  simply  pieces  of  sole  leather  under 
the  bottom,  held  on  by  thongs  passed  between 
the  toes  to  the  ankle.  Every  man  is  his  own 
shoemaker.  The  women  often  wear  only  a 
chemisette  and  neither  shoes  nor  stockings,  and 
when  they  do  wear  shoes,  they  wear  no  stock- 
ings. Privacy  is  absolutely  unknown,  in  this 
or  any  other  Mexican  city,  except  in  the  heart 
of  the  city  or  among  foreigners,  and  it  requires 
the  utmost  watchfulness  on  the  part  of  the  police 
to  keep  a semblance  of  public  decency,  even  in 
the  city  of  Mexico ; and  even  then,  the  Indians 
are  tacitly  exempt  from  punishment  for  infrac- 
tions. It  must  not  be  understood  that  this  as- 
sertion includes  everybody,  but  you  must 
remember  that  five-sixths  of  the  population  is 
classed  as  low  caste  or  peons,  and  strong  enough 
numerically  to  imprint  their  influence  upon 
every  city  in  the  country.  Through  almost 
every  city  flows  a stream  of  water,  and  in  this 
hundreds  of  men  and  women  bathe  promis- 
cuously. Some  cities  require  some  garment  to  be 
worn,  but  while  changing  clothes  and  putting 
on  the  bathing  suit,  they  are  protected  only  by 
the  blue  sky  and  the  Republic  of  Mexico. 

These  hovels  are  the  centers  of  a great  manu- 
facturing industry;  within,  the  women  are 
pounding  the  fibre  from  the  thick  leaves  of  the 
aloe  or  maguey,  and  making  brushes,  mats, 
hammocks,  rope  and  twine.  The  fibre  is  very 


Saltillo  and  the  Plateau. 


35 


much  like  the  unraveled  strands  of  our  sea- 
grass  rope,  and  so  strong  that  ordinary  wrap- 
ping cord  must  he  cut  with  a knife.  The 
weaving  apparatus  is  crude  in  the  extreme.  A 
post  with  a windlass  and  three  wooden  arms 
stands  in  the  ground,  and  a boy  turns  the  wind- 
lass. A man  walks  backwards  with  a basket  of 
fibre  hanging  from  his  neck.  Having  fastened 
a thread  to  each  of  the  arms  of  the  crank,  he  slow- 
ly feeds  each  lengthening  strand  as  it  twists 
around  the  windlass.  In  ten  minutes  he  can 
twist  a thread  fifty  feet  long.  The  threads  are 
woven  any  desirable  size,  the  most  common  being 
such  as  is  used  in  making  hammocks.  As  the 
husband  prepares  the  thread,  the  wife  weaves  the 
mats  or  hammocks,  and  goes  off  to  the  market  to 
sell.  Within  such  hovels,  all  the  manufacturing 
of  Mexico  is  carried  on,  with  no  machinery  any- 
where. Of  course,  without  w^ood,  steam  is 
impossible,  and  water  powrer  there  is  none. 

Saltillo  is  famed  for  one  thing  above  all 
others,  and  that  is  the  beauty  of  its  zerapes. 
A zerape  is  a cross  between  a cloak,  a blanket, 
a shawl  and  a mat,  because  it  is  used  for  all 
these.  It  is  the  one  garment  a Mexican  prizes 
next  to  his  hat,  the  sine  qua  non  of  his  attire. 
The  zerape  is  a hand-wToven  blanket,  with 
figures  and  colors  that,  would  make  Pharaoh’s 
adopted  son  turn  green  with  envy.  They  are 
woven  and  worn  all  over  Mexico,  but  those  made 
in  Saltillo  are  a thing  of  beauty  and  a joy  for- 
ever, to  the  happy  possessor.  When  the  Mexi- 
can starts  out  in  the  morning,  his  zerape  is 
folded  across  his  shoulder  with  the  fringed  ends 
nearly  touching  the  ground.  If  he  is  hunting 
work,  or  going  to  work,  or  walking  for  pleasure, 


36 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


or  holding  up  the  sunny  side  of  a street  corner 
to  keep  it  from  falling  down,  the  zerape  is  al- 
ways there.  If  he  sits  down,  he  either  6its  upon 
that  zerape  or  fondly  folds  it  across  his  lap. 
When  night  comes,  if  he  has  a home,  he  spreads 
that  zerape  on  the  dirt  floor  for  his  bed.  If  he 
has  no  home,  a nice  soft  corner  of  the  stone 
pavement  is  carpeted  with  his  zerape.  When 
morning  comes,  he  goes  through  the  same  pro- 
gramme. Many  slit  a hole  through  the  center 
and  stick  their  heads  through.  Those  who  can- 
not buy,  take  an  old  salt  sack  and  rip  it  up,  and 
presto ! a zerape.  In  the  Torrid  Zone  on  the 
coast,  when  the  hot  sun  melts  the  asphalt  pave- 
ments, an  Indian  may  be  seen  comfortably  smok- 
ing his  cigarette,  his  head  covered  with  a woolen 
sombrero  weighted  down  with  silver  ornaments, 
and  several  yards  of  woolen  zerape  covering  his 
reeking  body. 

Ephraim  is  wedded  to  his  idols.  If  the  men 
are  wedded  to  the  zerape,  the  women  are  equally 
inseparable  from  the  rebosa.  The  rebosa  is  a 
shawl,  nothing  more — that  is  from  appearance, 
but  with  the  Mexican  women  and  girls,  it  is 
second  self.  The  common  gray,  cotton  article 
is  called  a rebosa , the  finer  black  article  is  a 
tapalo,  while  the  lace  fabrication  is  a mantilla , 
but  it  is  of  the  rebosa  that  we  now  speak.  Hats 
nor  bonnets  are  ever  worn  by  the  women  at  any 
time  or  place,  the  rebosa  is  used  instead.  It  is 
drawn  across  the  brow  until  the  ends  hang  down 
below  the  waist,  then  one  end  is  thrown  across 
the  opposite  shoulder,  protecting  the  neck  and 
making  a drapery  both  picturesque  and  pleas- 
ing. Sometimes  she  wears  it  around  her 
shoulders  as  a shawl.  If  she  has  a baby,  she 


Saltillo  and  the  Plateau . 


37 


lets  the  slack  out  in  the  back,  loops  the  young- 
ster in  it  and  takes  a half  hitch  with  the  ends 
in  front.  It  is  an  every  day  sight  to  see  cara- 
vans of  "Women  come  to  town  with  large  baskets 
of  fruit  on  their  heads,  and  the  blackeyed 
youngsters  tied  in  the  rebosa  and  peeping  over 
the  mother’s  shoulder.  When  the  mothers  sit 
by  the  roadside  to  rest  the  “ Kids  ” are  not  un- 
wrapped, but  they  usually  keep  the  peace  until 
released. 

The  rebosa  is  the  first  garment  a girl  learns 
to  wear,  and  I might  add,  until  she  is  quite 
large  it  is  often  the  only  one.  The  most  re- 
markable thing  about  it  is,  they  never  cease 
wearing  them.  Peep  into  these  hovels,  and 
every  woman  and  girl  child  will  be  sitting  list- 
lessly on  the  stone  floor,  or  busily  at  work  with 
head  and  ears  tightly  wrapped  up,  their  spark- 
ling eyes  and  pleasant  faces  alone  showing.  But 
draw  a camera  on  them,  presto  ! every  face  is 
instantly  covered.  In  walking,  one  or  both 
hands  is  always  engaged  in  holding  the  folds 
under  the  chin,  as  no  shawl  pins  are  used.  The 
girl  of  fashion  is  a combination  of  painted  face, 
India  inked  eyebrows  and  bella-donna  eyes,  but 
the  ordinary  middle  class  girls  have  rare  beauty 
sometimes,  and  a series  of  faces  would  make 
“mighty  interesting  reading,”  but  no  camera 
that  I have  seen  can  get  their  faces,  unless 
covered  with  a rebosa. 

The  prevailing  color  of  rebosas  is  as  much  a 
distinctive  emblem  of  caste,  as  any  rule  in  the 
social  decalogue.  No  high  caste  woman  would 
dare  be  seen  with  a gray  rebosa , and  though  a 
low  caste  might  be  able  to  buy  one  of  the  more 
costly  black  ones,  I have  never  seen  one  do  so, 


38 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


and  the  observance  of  these  social  adjuncts  is  as 
unchanging  as  the  laws  of  the  Medes  and 
Persians. 

Saltillo  as  seen  from  the  rear  is  disappointing. 
Most  towns  are  painted  white,  but  here  the 
dull,  wearied-looking  sun-baked  adobe  houses 
are  not  pleasing.  We  visit  a high  school  for 
young  ladies  aad  wonder  that  all  this  youthful 
beauty  can  bide  this  dull  town,  and  that  reminds 
me  that  there  is  not  a mixed  school  in  all 
Mexico,  even  the  kindergartens  being  separate. 
You  do  not  need  to  visit  the  primary  schools, 
as  you  can  hear  all  you  wish  a block  awray. 
The  noise  that  first  greets  you  wTill  remind  you 
of  the  last  inning  at  the  base-ball  park  when 
everybody  is  asking  who  killed  the  umpire. 
There  may  be  three  hundred  children  and  each 
one  is  studying  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  if  voices 
ever  have  top  and  bottom,  and  the  priests  are 
stalking  among  them.  The  catechism  is  the 
first  book  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  child,  and 
his  duty  to  the  church,  the  priest  and  the  pope, 
are  the  first  lines  he  ever  learns.  This  statement 
will  help  make  plain  some  other  things  I shall 
say  later  about  the  religious  status  of  the 
country. 

In  the  early  gray  of  the  July  morning,  with 
the  chilling  fog  settling  all  around  us,  we  draw 
our  heavy  wraps  about  us  and  leave  with  no  re- 
grets Saltillo,  4 ‘ The  Stepping  Stone.”  We  have 
indeed  stepped  upon  the  plateau,  and  for  a hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  the  track  is  as  straight  as  a 
carpenter’s  rule.  What  a monotony  ! Desert, 
yucca  palms,  cactus,  dust.  Not  a living  thing 
but  cactus.  No  birds,  no  insects,  no  rabbits, 
no  snakes — nothing  that  breathes  claims  this 


Saltillo  and  the  Plateau. 


89 


for  a home.  The  railroad  authorities  did  not 
plan  this  road  for  the  beauty  of  its  landscape, 
hut  for  the  economy  of  building.  Ten  thousand 
feet  above  sea-level  lies  the  hack-bone  of  the 
Cordilleras,  and  the  plain  is  as  level  as  a floor. 

For  twelve  hundred  miles  a carriage  can 
travel  here  without  making  a road,  so  while  the 
journey  is  disappointing  to  the  tourist,  the  rail- 
road company  pats  itself  on  the  hack  for  long- 
headedness. 

Away  in  the  distance  we  see  a tiny  curl  of 
white  dust  no  larger  than  a man’s  hand,  and 
reaching  to  heaven.  That  is  the  sign  of  the 
burro  pack-team  hearing  their  bundles  of  fag- 
ots for  the  hungry  maw  of  the  locomotive. 
Poor  little  donkeys,  not  weighing  more  than 
three  hundred  pounds,  without  bridle  or  saddle 
or  harness  or  halter,  and  without  food  except 
as  they  can  argue  wuth  the  thorns  and  thistles 
by  the  wayside,  follow,  follow  forever  the  nar- 
row trail  to  the  wood-pile  by  the  railroad  track, 
drop  their  burden  and  return. 

Surely  the  earth  is  round  to  the  donkey.  When 
he  was  no  larger  than  a kid,  he  followed  his 
mother  along  the  same  trail  until  he  got  large 
enough  to  carry  a pack-saddle  himself.  That 
wearied,  discouraged  look  he  has  always  had, 
even  to  the  twentieth  generation.  It  is  a part 
of  his  inheritance.  He  never  had  any  frisky 
coH  days  in  a pasture,  nor  did  he  have  to  “be 
broke  ” to  harness  when  he  reached  the  state  of 
Coahuila  and  donkeyhood.  In  fact  he  was  never 
horn,  but  like  Topsy  “just  growed  up,”  a 
burden-bearing  burro.  From  the  Rio  Grande  to 
Yucatan,  he  has  gridironed  the  country  and 
impressed  it  with  his  stamp.  He  and  his  com- 


40  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

panions  have  trailed,  Indian  file,  loaded  to  the 
guards  with  silver  ore,  until  his  sharp  little  feet 
cut  the  trail  so  deep  that  his  burden  was  raked 
off  by  the  banks.  He  then  started  a new  trail 
by  the  side  of  that  until  his  little  legs  are  out 
of  sight  in  the  trails  cut  by  his  feet  in  the  solid 
rock ; and  then  repeats,  until  you  may  count 
twenty  or  more  little  parallel  gridiron  paths  for 
hundreds  of  miles.  He  has  worn  through  solid 
rock  in  a dozen  parallel  paths,  and  only  the 
final  recorder  in  the  burro  paradise  can  tell  how 
many  weary  journeys  he  had  to  make  to  write 
his  name  so  well. 

Neither  the  trolley  car  nor  the  bicycle  will 
ever  make  his  shadow  grow  less;  he  is  a part  of 
the  country,  as  indispensable  as  water  itself. 
While  the  Indians  load  the  tender  with  wood, 
I follow  the  fireman  and  brakeman  into  the 
chaparral.  They  have  a pail  of  water,  a wicker 
basket,  and  a long  stick  with  a string  lasso  on  the 
end,  and  are  hunting  tarantulas.  Being  some- 
thing of  a naturalist  myself,  I was  well  acquainted 
with  tarantulas,  and  I promptly  told  them 
I had  not  lost  any  tarantulas,  and  if  they  had 
nothing  better  to  lose  than  tarantulas,  they 
needed  guardians.  To  those  who  have  not  a 
speaking  acquaintance  with  his  vitriolic  majesty, 
I will  say  it  is  a huge  hairy  spider  that  will 
cover  the  bottom  of  a tea-cup,  and  when  placed 
in  a saucer  is  able  to  grasp  the  edge  all  round, 
so  great  is  the  spread  of  its  claws.  It  is  very 
vindictive  and  can  leap  up  to  a man’s  face 
when  making  close  acquaintance.  In  Texas  I 
have  known  its  bite  to  kill  a person  in  twelve 
hours.  I saw  one  catch  a chicken  under  the 
wing,  and  the  chicken  fell  within  one  minute. 


Saltillo  and  the  Plateau. 


41 


However,  I joined  the  hunters.  We  first  looked 
for  a hole  in  the  ground,  and  as  the  hole 
denotes  the  size  of  the  tarantula,  only  the  larger 
ones  were  sought.  When  a hole  about  the  cir- 
cumference of  a half  dollar  was  found,  one 
man  guarded  that  with  the  slick  and  basket, 
while  the  other  sought  the  outlet,  for  they  al- 
ways have  two  entrances  to  their  homes.  When 
it  was  found,  the  water  was  poured  in,  and  out 
he  came  into  the  lasso  placed  over  the  other 
hole — and  is  caught  dangling  at  the  end  of 
the  stick.  What  is  he  good  for  ? To  sell.  The 
Mexican  is  the  greatest  gambler  this  side  of 
Monte  Carlo.  Tomorrow  is  the  fiesta  of  his 
patron  saint,  and  he  will  celebrate.  As  every 
one  chooses  a saint  to  his  liking,  and 
churches  and  towns  do  likewise — there  is 
scarcely  a day  in  the  calendar  that  is  not  some- 
body’s saint  day.  Tomorrow  he  will  “knock 
off  ” from  work,  go  to  the  bull-ring  and  bet  his 
money  on  the  bull  or  the  man,  and  whichever 
one  gets  killed,  he  is  so  much  loser  or  winner. 
He  goes  to  the  cock-pit  and  stakes  again,  and  a 
bird  soon  spears  another  through  with  his  gaff ; 
but  a tarantula  fight ! Bravo  ! that  is  a sport 
royal.  In  the  bull-ring,  the  bull  sometimes 
gets  wounded  and  bellows  to  be  allowed  to  go 
home  to  his  mother.  In  the  cock-pit,  a bird 
gets  a gaff  pinned  through  his  upper  works  and 
decides  to  settle  the  fight  by  arbitration;  but  a 
tarantula,  Caramba ! they  simply  eat  each  other 
up.  The  only  way  you  can  lose  money  is  that 
the  other  fellow’s  cannibal  will  eat  yours  first. 

The  engineer  blows  his  whistle  and  calls  us  in, 
and  we  trail  again  through  the  white  dust  to 
Catorce,  a hundred  and  fifty  miles  as  the  crow 


42  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

flies,  only  no  crow  ever  flies  over  this  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah.  Catorce  means  fourteen,  as  the 
mines  were  discovered  by  a band  of  brigands 
numbering  fourteen.  You  get  off  at  the  station 
and  see  nothing  but  a station  and  three  or  four 
pack  trains  of  burros  that  have  just  brought  in 
a load  of  silver.  Follow  their  gridiron  trail, 
and  eight  miles  further  you  come  to  Catorce,  a 
city  of  from  ten  to  twenty  thousand  people, 
according  to  the  output  of  silver,  and  these 
people  have  never  heard  the  rumble  of  wheels. 
Ore  was  first  found  here  in  1790,  and  for  thirty 
years  the  silver  output  was  over  three  million 
dollars  yearly. 

There  are  hundreds  of  these  mines  here,  and 
the  drainage  tunnel  of  the  San  Augustin  mine 
runs  into  the  mountain  more  than  a mile  and  a 
half  and  cost  a million  and  a half  dollars.  Up, 
up  you  climb  the  rocky  sides  of  the  mountain, 
but  there  is  no  other  way  to  reach  Catorce,  and 
when  there,  you  are  in  one  of  the  richest  spots 
on  earth,  where  the  ore  often  assays  $15,000  to 
the  ton.  The  streets  run  forty-five  degrees  one 
way,  and  I suppose  they  ought  to  run  the  same 
coming  back,  but  if  you  let  go  your  hold  on  the 
street  corners,  you  would  fall  out  of  town  so 
fast  you  could  not  measure  the  angle.  The  only 
level  place  in  town  of  course  has  a plaza  and  a 
very  fine  cathedral.  I have  made  a similar 
statement  several  times,  which  needs  no  repeti- 
tion. Whenever  you  enter  a Mexican  town  you 
will  always  find  “ A very  fine  plaza  and  a very 
fine  cathedral.”  That  copyright  phrase  will 
fit  anywhere,  with  sometimes  a modification  of 
very  and  a change  of  church  for  cathedral. 

Catorce  is  the  last  town  in  the  temperate  zone, 


Saltillo  and  the  Plateau.  43 

A few  miles  beyond,  standing  solitary  upon  the 
desert  like  Lot’s  wife  in  the  geography,  is  a 
pyramid  erected  by  the  railroad  company.  It 
marks  the  exact  line  of  the  Tropic  of  Cancer.  On 
the  north  the  legend  reads:  — 

TROPICO  DE  CANCER. 

ZONA  TEMPLADA. 

on  the  south, 

TROPICO  DE  CANCER. 

ZONA  TORRLDA. 

Out  of  respect  to  your  early  teaching  in  geog- 
raphy you  ought  to  perspire  and  be  exceeding 
warm  in  the  Torrid  Zone,  and  see  all  kinds  of 
gay-plumaged  birds  and  jungles  of  flowers,  but 
the  hammer  of  the  iconoclast  has  shattered  one 
of  your  long  cherished  dreams. 

The  sun  was  shining  upon  a landscape  over 
which  clouds  never  hover.  You  pull  your  over- 
coat around  you  on  this  cold  July  day,  and  look 
through  your  closed  windows  for  the  other 
canard — the  landscape.  The  landscape  is  all 
there  according  to  the  book,  and  for  that  you  are 
thankful,  but  how  changed  ! As  far  as  the  eye 
can  reach  and  ten  times  farther  are  beautiful 
rock-colored  rocks,  and  dust-colored  dust  and 
thorny  thorns  and  dust-hidden  sky.  Where 
are  the  flowers?  Never  were  any.  And  the  birds? 
Never  will  be  any.  Not  a blade  of  grass  nor  a 
chirp  of  insect.  For  forty  miles  around,  or  as 
far  as  the  eye  can  reach  is  the  dry,  parched 
dust,  and  the  chaparral,  sere  and  yellow. 

After  a hundred  and  fifty  miles  of  desert,  how 
welcome  is  the  oasis!  Bocas  is  its  name,  and 
the  last  stopping-place  before  we  reach  the 
great  city  of  San  Luis  Potosi. 

Las  Bocas  is  a fine  hacienda  and  recalls  old 


44  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

feudal  times  along  the  Rhine.  Here  is  a fine 
old  caslle  with  its  walled  enclosure,  its  beauti- 
ful arched  bridge  and  its  herds  and  flocks  and 
gardens  and  retinue.  By  the  railroad  track  is 
a distillery  for  making  liquid  lava  from  the  aloe 
or  maguey  plant,  which  is  sold  under  the  name 
of  mescal  for  the  purpose  of  making  men  drunk. 
Those  who  know  say  it  will  eat  the  lining  out 
of  a lead-pipe  stomach.  I saw  a case  of  delirium 
tremens  which  it  is  guaranteed  to  give,  and  I 
can  only  liken  it  to  a caged  hyena  after  Lent. 

Away  in  the  distance  is  the  snow-white  trail 
of  a stone  wall,  which  winds  its  tortuous  path 
many  leagues  away  to  encircle  the  hacienda  de 
Las  Bocas,  while  within  its  bounds  and  feeding 
upon  the  rocks  and  thorns  are  the  thousands  of 
cattle  that  maintain  its  opulence.  How  that 
kind  of  food  can  work  such  wonders  is  beyond 
my  ken.  When  I was  in  school  I learned  that 
cattle  have  four  sfcomachs.  I think  one  would 
be  quite  sufficient  for  all  the  food  a cow  can 
get  from  a cactus  bush,  and  a couple  of  mill- 
stones might  be  helpful  in  digesting  the  rocks. 
No  one  told  me  that  the  rocks  were  positively  a 
part  of  the  bill  of  fare,  but  I pointed  to  ten 
miles  of  rocks  enclosed  by  a wall  and  asked  a 
man  why  they  fenced  in  the  rocks,  and  he  said  it 
was  a pasture,  and  he  ought  to  know,  as  he  is  a 
native  and  to  the  manner  born. 

Four  hundred  and  seventy-five  miles  from  the 
Rio  Grande,  and  the  only  trees  seen  were  upon 
the  little  oases  watered  by  tiny  streams.  We 
leave  the  plateau  and  climb  the  mountain  into 
the  city  of  San  Luis  de  Potosi. 


CHAPTER  III. 

SAN  LUIS  POTOSI. 

ND  no  more  satisfactory  city  can  be  vis- 


ited than  San  Luis,  situated  in  the  crater 


JL  JL.  of  a fertile  valley,  while  its  suburbs  ex- 
tend to  the  rich  silver  mines  of  the  mountains 
which  give  it  name. 

The  mines  have  been  worked  over  three  hun- 
dred years,  but  the  city  is  only  two  hundred 
years  old.  The  mines  were  discovered  to  the 
Spaniards  by  a pious  monk,  who  named  them 
Potosi,  because  of  the  resemblance  to  the  mines 
of  Peru. 

Three  million  dollars  annually,  are  mined.  A 
very  unusual  thing  for  Mexico,  the  railroad 
station  is  in  the  heart  of  the  city.  Seventy-five 
thousand  people  make  their  home  here,  and  the 
law  requires  all  houses  to  be  kept  freshly  painted; 
and  what  a restful  revelation  it  is,  with  asphalt 
pavements  swept  clean  each  night,  and  hotels 
that  make  a traveler  glad.  The  only  drawback 
to  complete  happiness  is  a lack  of  water.  Most 
cities  here  drawT  their  water  from  the  mountains 
in  aqueducts,  but  San  Luis  has  outgrown  its 
supply. 

At  the  public  fountains,  a stream  of  water- 


45 


46  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

carriers  by  hundred  stand  patiently  in  line  to 
fill  their  vessels  from  the  tiny,  discouraged 
stream  trickling  from  the  Dolphin’s  mouth,  and 
the  police  stand  guard  to  see  that  all  are  served 
in  the  order  of  arrival.  All  day  and  all  night 
this  pitiful  waiting  goes  on  forever.  It  is  like 
buying  tickets  for  the  Symphony  concerts  in 
Boston,  where  the  people  come  before  day  and 
buy  choice  places  in  the  long  line  of  earnest 
waiters.  The  water  is  free,  but  the  successful 
ones  sell  to  those  in  the  city  who  do  not  care  to 
enter  the  crush,  or  to  the  hotels  and  wealthy 
ones  who  can  buy.  All  kinds  of  vessels  are 
used,  but  the  preference  is  given  to  the  five-gal- 
lon cans  that  brought  kerosene  into  the  city. 

With  two  of  these  fastened  to  a shoulder 
yoke,  the  men  peddle  the  water  at  three  cents  a 
can.  With  the  women,  the  favorite  is  the  large 
Egyptian  model  earthenware  called  ollci.  With 
this  poised  gracefully  on  one  shoulder  and  elbow, 
and  the  opposite  hand  held  across  the  head  to 
balance,  it  completes  one  of  the  most  picturesque 
scenes  so  common  here.  Rebecca  at  the  Well 
has  simply  stepped  out  of  the  old  picture  book 
and  assumed  her  ancient  calling.  The  feature 
of  the  profession,  however,  is  a man  with  a 
nondescript  wheel-barrow  which  no  man  can 
describe. 

Rainfall  is  quite  plentiful  here, -but  the  porous 
amygdaloid  rocks  can  not  hold  it.  At  present 
an  American  citizen  is  boring  an  artesian  well, 
and  the  interest  displayed  by  the  citizens  is  re- 
markable. All  day  long  hundreds  of  anxious 
watchers  will  stand  around  the  drill,  evincing 
the  same  interest  we  used  to  show  at  our  board- 
ing house  when  the  first  strawberry  short-cake 


San  Luis  Potosi. 


47 


of  tlie  season  was  cut,  and  the  anxious  boarders 
were  watching  to  see  who  would  get  the  straw- 
berry. 

The  burro  train  has  lost  its  hold  upon  San 
Luis.  For  three  hundred  years  ail  the  silver 
was  carried  to  the  sea,  two  hundred  and  seventy- 
five  miles  away,  by  burros,  but  now,  with  two 
railroads,  things  have  changed.  The  Mexican 
National  leads  to  the  capital,  the  Mexican  Cen- 
tral to  the  bay  of  Tampico. 

Here  are  many  fine  buildings  to  see;  the  Gover- 
nor’s palace,  palace  of  justice,  State  capitol, the 
'museum,  the  library  with  a hundred  thousand 
volumes,  cathedral,  and  the  churches  of  Carmen, 
Merced,  San  Augustin,  San  Francisco,  Military 
College,  and  the  Teatro  de  la  Paz,  one  of  the 
finest  opera  houses  in  the  country. 

As  in  all  the  cities,  the  street  cars  start  from 
the  main  Plaza,  and  from  here  you  may  visit 
Guadalupe,  Tequisquiapan,  the  baths  of  La 
Soledad,  Axcala  and  Santiago. 

In  the  rainy  season,  the  street  cars  bear  this 
legend:  “ There  is  water  in’the  river.”  As  a 
matter  of  course,  the  cars  do  a land-office  busi- 
ness as  long  as  the  water  lasts.  The  cars  lead 
to  the  Paseo , a beautiful  shaded  avenue  two 
miles  long,  asphalt  pavements,  and  fountains  at 
either  end,  with  the  usual  scramble  for  water. 

At  the  extreme  end  is  the  church  of  Guada- 
lupe, with  two  tall  towers,  and  a fine  clock 
presented  by  the  king  of  Spain,  in  return  for 
the  gift  of  the  largest  single  piece  of  silver  ore 
ever  taken  from  a mine — the  mine  of  San  Pedro. 

The  city  of  San  Luis  Potosi  is  building  a 
hall  that  is  to  be  the  eighth  wonder  of  the 
world.  It  has  cost  millions  and  will  cost  mil- 


48 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


lions  more.  Seven  years  ago  a dozen  skilled 
stonemasons  from  Pennsylvania  were  imported 
to  do  the  ornamental  carving  on  the  front.  One 
Fourth  of  July  a member  of  the  party  got  drunk 
and  killed  a Mexican.  He  was  tried  and  con- 
demned to  be  shot. 

Then  arose  the  certainty  that  with  him  in  the 
grave  there  would  be  no  one  to  do  the  fancy 
carving  on  the  City  Hall,  so  it  was  decided  to 
keep  him  at  work  and  shoot  him  when  he  had 
finished.  Every  day  this  workman  hangs  like 
a fly  against  the  great  white  wall  and  pecks 
away  at  gargoyles  and  griffins’  heads,  while  a 
file  of  soldiers  stand  in  the  streets  looking  at  him. 

His  life  ends  with  his  job,  and  the  Mexicans 
say  he  is  the  most  deliberate  workman  in  the 
world.  At  the  present  rate  of  progress,  by  the 
best  obtainable  calculations,  the  front  of  the 
City  Hall  will  be  sufficiently  scrolled  and  carved 
about  the  middle  of  1950.  All  the  churches 
contain  valuable  paintings. 

The  most  remarkable  thing  about  these  cities, 
there  is  no  noise.  There  is  no  steam,  no  manu- 
factories, no  wagons,  no  drays,  and  as  the  peo- 
ple go  without  shoes,  there  is  no  noise  of  any 
kind.  You  may  sit  on  the  busiest  street  here  and 
close  your  eyes,  and  feel  all  the  quiet  and  com- 
fort of  a cemetery.  Those  who  like  to  sleep 
late  in  the  morning  can  better  appreciate  this. 
The  days  and  nights  are  of  equal  length,  and 
you  could  stop  in  the  most  populous  hotel  in 
the  city  and  sleep  until  ten  o’clock  in  the  day. 
No  bpll-boy,  no  breakfast  bell;  just  quiet.  The 
one  exception  to  noise  is  the  market  place ; it 
was  made  for  noise,  and  is  different  from  all  the 
others  in  the  country. 


San  Luis  Potosi. 


49 


In  other  cities  there  are  several  market  places 
which  relieve  the  congestion,  but  here  there  is 
but  one.  Before  daylight  the  hubbub  begins 
and  lasts  till  noon,  and  the  main  building  is 
soon  crowded,  and  its  overflow  spreads  to  the 
four  streets  which  pass  it.  There  are  no  pass- 
ing vehicles,  so  from  curb  to  curb  are  hundreds 
of  women  sitting  flat  upon  the  ground  with 
their  gray  rebosas  around  their  heads,  and  their 
scanty  wares  spread  about.  They  sell  every- 
thing, and  the  streets  are  redolent  with  unknown 
and  unsavory  odors  from  the  charcoal  braziers, 
from  which  the  designing  maid  or  matron  offers 
her  concoctions  to  the  unsuspecting  wayfarer. 

Of  course  you  try  some  of  these  experiments; 
you  do  not  know  what  you  are  eating,  but  it 
never  kills.  This  compels  me  to  say  that  very, 
very  few  people  eat  at  home,  but  go  to  the 
market  for  their  meals,  going  from  one  stall  to 
the  other.  Another  market  feature,  green  corn 
is  always  offered  cooked,  and  the  same  is  true 
of  sweet  potatoes.  Some  people  buy  their  sup- 
plies and  take  them  home  to  be  cooked,  but 
green  corn  and  potatoes  never.  They  are  both 
boiled  with  their  jackets  on,  and  if  a vendor 
has  a bushel,  he  or  she  boils  the  whole  and 
stacks  it  up  on  the  pavement,  and  it  may  be  five 
or  six  hours  later,  the  purchaser  buys  an  ear 
and  hulls  the  grains  off  and  eats  his  dinner  with 
no  salt  or  accompaniment  whatever. 

The  market  is  never  closed  for  three  hundred 
and  sixty  five  days  in  the  year.  In  many  stalls 
are  wholesale  dealers  who  supply  the  retailers. 
In  unloading  the  corn  or  grain  to  put  it  in  bins, 
there  will  be  half  a dozen  women  or  children  in 
the  dust  under  the  cart, . scrambling  for  the 


50 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


grains  as  they  fall  from  the  sacks.  When  the 
cart  has  gone,  they  winnow  all  the  dust  through 
their  hands  locking  for  the  missing  grain. 

These  market  gatherings  are  the  simon-pure 
article  of  the  native  element,  unadulterated 
by  foreign  influence.  Here  are  Indians  from  the 
mountains,  peons  from  the  haciendas  and  peas- 
ants from  the  surrounding  country  and  the 
gentry  from  the  city,  all  hobnobbing  together. 
The  usual  dress  of  these  women  vendors  is 
startling.  The  Indians  wear  a string  of  beads 
around  their  necks  and  one  or  two  yards  of 
coarse  cloth  fastened  wherever  it  will  fit  best, 
and  they  are  dressed  up.  The  peasants  wear  a 
string  of  heads  and  a chemise  which  commences 
too  late  above  and  stops  too  soon  below,  and  all 
are  barefoot.  The  high-caste  women  all  dres3 
in  American  or  French  styles,  except  that  they 
wear  no  head  gear  but  their  own  black  hair, 
and  they  wear  the  most  ill  fitting  high-heel, 
needle-pointed  shoes  that  are  made.  The  nat- 
ional color  for  Spanish  and  Mexican  women  is 
black.  Meet  a "hundred  ladies  at  a time,  and 
every  dress  without  exception  is  jet.  I rather 
think  it  is  vanity.  We  put  salt  on  watermelon  to 
enhance  its  sweetness  by  comparison,  and  so  with 
black  hair,  black  dress  and  fair  skin,  the  con- 
trast I think  was  the  final  end  sought. 

Elite  society  never  appears  on  the  street  here 
till  six  o’clock,  unless  a fiesta  or  church  service 
calls  it  out;  and  before  that  hour,  what  careful 
preparation  is  had?  The  hair  is  usually  braided 
and  let  alone.  A quantity  of  India  ink  along 
the  eyebrows  make  a black  en  rapport  with  the 
hair,  and  a little  belladonna  in  the  eyes  will 
add  a sparkle  that  will  wither  up  men’s  souls 


San  Luis  Potosi. 


51 


and  scatter  them  prone  at  her  feet- — metaphori- 
cally speaking,  and  when  those  cheeks  have  been 
kalsomined — I mean  whitewashed— that  is — 
painted,  if  the  dear  ladies  will  spare  my  life  for 
mentioning  it,  and  when  mi-lady  has  thus  per- 
formed her  renovation — I mean  toilet,  and  placed 
her  diamonds  on  her  neck  where  they  will  show 
best,  and  wrapped  as  to  her  shoulders  with  the 
diaphanous  mantilla  and  steps  under  the  electric 
light,  I tell  you  she  is — is  indescribable. 

The  dress  of  the  men  of  the  lower  class  is  just  a 
kaleidoscope,  that’s  all.  Some  of  the  Indians  are 
dressed  like  their  women,  in  their  long  hair  and  a 
strip  of  cloth  hung  where  it  hangs  the  best.  The 
high  top  straw  sombrero  or  the  Panama  hat  with 
a string  under  the  chin  is  the  prevailing  style, 
although  the  more  costly  woolen  hat  is  repre- 
sented. White  cotton  and  brown  linen  constitute 
the  dress  goods. 

The  usual  cut  of  coat  is  a short  jacket  or 
jumper.  Others  wear  a long  sack  coat,  and 
instead  of  buttoning  it  they  gather  the  two 
corners  together  and  tie  them  in  a knot.  This 
distinctive  style  has  a kind  of  freemasonry  im- 
portance in  which  I was  never  initiated.  Then 
his  pantaloons  are  white,  with  the  bottom  widened 
immensely.  The  shepherds  have  a style  all 
their  own.  They  have  a buckskin  jacket 
cut  short  , and  buckskin  pantaloons  cut  long, 
with  a row  of  buttons  on  the  outside.  Then  he 
takes  his  knife  and  slits  the  legs  inside  and  out, 
from  the  knee  down,  then  he  gathers  up  the 
ends  and  tucks  them  under  his  belt,  and  depends 
upon  his  underwear  for  effect  on  dress  parade. 
He  always  scores.  Some  people  might  say  he 


52 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


looks  badly,  but  with  his  clan  he  is  in  very 
correct  form  and  why  should  you  object? 

The  porters,  or  public  drays  dress  in  white 
cotton,  with  one  leg  of  their  pants  rolled  up  to 
the  knee,  leaving  the  leg  bare. 

Around  his  neck  he  wears  a large  badge 
like  a policeman’s,  with  his  official  num- 
ber, showing  that  he  is  licensed  to  carry 
packages,  from  express  money  orders  to  upright 
pianos.  He  is  the  only  express  wagon  here,  and 
is  absolutely  reliable.  He  will  shoulder  your 
Saratoga  and  trot  a mile  without  resting.  I 
recall  the  case  of  one  who  stumbled  with  an 
American  drummer’s  trunk  on  his  back,  and 
when  the  street  commissioners  gathered  up  his 
remains,  they  were  spread  over  two  square 
yards  of  pavement.  P.  S.  the  trunk  was  not 
injured. 

Four  of  these  cargadors  will  carry  your  piano 
to  any  part  of  the  city.  For  moving  household 
goods,  they  have  vans  made  on  the  plan  of  a hos- 
pital stretcher,  with  a man  in  the  shafts  at  each 
end,  and  a rope  passing  over  his  shoulders  to  the 
shafts,  and  they  will  carry  a dray  load  each 
time.  Two  dozen  chairs  by  actual  count  is 
what  I have  seen  one  man  carry.  The  mule  has 
been  promoted  to  the  street  car,  out  of  respect 
to  the  two-legged  express  wagon. 

The  dress  of  the  cow-boy  and  rural  police  is 
something  to  admire.  A high  sombrero,  costing 
from  twelve  to  fifty  dollars,  weighted  down  with 
monograms  and  silver  ornament. 

Leather  or  buckskin  suit  with  silver  buttons 
from  boots  to  neckband.  Silver  spurs  and  silver 
bridle  bits.  Saddle  whose  every  piece  of  orna- 
inent  is  solid  silver,  a horse-hair  lariat,  and  if 


San  Luis  Potosi. 


53 


he  is  a Burale,  a rifle,  and  he  sits  his  horse  like 
a centaur. 

The  dude  is  in  a class  alone,  but  he  counts 
one  when  on  dress  parade.  A tall,  black  som- 
brero with  silver  ornaments.  Scarlet  jacket, 
reaching  to  the  waist,  and  sprayed  with  silver 
braid  in  fantastic  designs.  Buckskin  panta- 
loons, flaring  at  the  bottom  and  silver  buttons 
all  the  way  up,  and  along-side  a series  of  cross- 
section  slashes,  interwoven  with  a beautiful 
ribbon  from  spur  to  waistband.  Silver  spur  and 
bridle  bit,  a saddle  worth  as  much  as  the  horse, 
and  a bright  nickel-plated  revolver  buckled 
around  his  waist. 

At  the  fashionable  hour  for  promenade,  he 
mounts  his  horse,  and  slowly  rides  over  the  town 
and  graciously  permits  the  populace  to  admire 
him.  I think  he  ought  to  be  knighted  for  his 
liberality.  Most  people  who  go  to  that  much 
trouble  to  shine,  generally  make  you  buy  a dol- 
lar theater  ticket  for  the  pleasure  of  looking  at 
him,  strains  his  constitution  and  bylaws  showing 
off,  and  cannot  ride  a horse  at  all. 

But  commend  me  to  the  Mexican  dude.  After 
he  has  set  the  town  agog,  he  turns  up  a certain 
avenue,  which  contains  a certain  house,  pro- 
jecting from  which  is  a balcony,  in  which  dwells 
the  only  girl  in  town,  and,  after  he  has  passed 
in  all  his  silent  glory,  he  throws  bouquets  at  him- 
self for  the  wonderful  impression  he  has  made, 
and  then  goes  home  to  undress.  Earth  cannot 
hold  him  much  longer.  I fear  his  own  ardor 
and  faith  in  himself  will  finally  sublimate  him, 
but  our  loss  is  heaven’s  gain.  The  children; 
there  are  no  children;  they  are  just  vest-pocket 
editions  of  old  folks.  Usually  they  are  dressed 


54 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


in  their  innocence,  but  that  is  a quality  of  goods 
that  does  not  last  long  here.  When  a boy  is  old 
enough  to  wear  anything  else,  it  is  exactly  like 
his  father’s,  tall  sombrero,  pants  that  strike  his 
heels,  and  a red  sash  around  his  waist.  Sus- 
penders are  not  worn  here.  When  a girl  is  no 
longer  innocent,  she  dresses  in  a rebosa.  By 
wrapping  it  around  her  head  it  reaches  her  feet. 
They  don’t  have  much  time  to  be  little  for  they 
marry  at  eleven  and  twelve.  The  upper  class 
men,  of  course  dress  as  Americans,  but  Paris 
sets  the  fashion  in  Mexico  always.  All  these 
things  you  see  at  the  market  in  San  Luis 
Potosi,  but  you  see  them  in  hundreds,  while  I 
have  only  described  them  as  individuals,  and 
have  not  half  turned  the  kaleidoscope  yet. 

The  streets  must  be  all  vacated  by  eleven 
o'clock  at  night,  and  when  the  hour  for  closing 
has  arrived,  nothing  is  locked  up.  The  thousand 
and  one  vendors  have  no  care  for  their  goods. 
A piece  of  canvas  is  spread  over  them  and  a 
brickbat  placed  on  to  keep  the  wind  from  inter- 
fering, and  they  go  home. 

The  policeman  does |the  rest — he  never  sleeps. 
Crime  does  not  pay  in  Mexico.  The  laws  are 
as  swift  as  a bolt  of  Jupiter.  A person  is 
arrested  this  morning,  tried  and  shot  before 
night.  They  waste  no  sentiment  on  criminals 
and  they  are  too  expensive  to  feed. 

Another  curious  custom  is,  the  money  received 
during  the  day  must  always  be  in  sight.  A 
wooden  tray  on  top  of  a pile  of  goods  holds  the 
receipts  of  the  entire  day  and  not  a piece  is  hid- 
den. The  taxation  law  is  very  rigid,  and  a 
certain  per  cent,  of  all  sales  is  collected  by  the 
city,  and  the  inspector  must  be  always  free  to 


San  Luis  Potosi. 


55 


look  at  your  sales  and  figure  on  his  per  cent. 

As  hard  as  the  law  is  on  poor  people,  you 
never  hear  them  complain.  They  respect  the 
laws  even  though  they  do  not  like  them.  Just 
imagine  an  American  counting  up  square  and 
even  with  a tax  collector  on  a day’s  sale  ! When 
Bellamy  gets  his  colony  in  working  order  and 
invites  me  to  come  and  see  the  wonder  of  the 
twentieth  century,  that  is  the  sight  I want 
to  see. 

The  wearing  of  pistols  here  is  not  a sign  of 
revolution.  Probably  it  is  not  loaded,  and  a 
Mexican  would  not  shoot  you  for  anything.  If 
his  liver  was  out  of  order  to  the  extent  of  want- 
ing your  blood,  he  would  take  his  knife  and  re- 
duce you  to  sausage  meat,  but  shoot  you,  never. 
That  is  not  his  style.  A pistol  is  as  much  an 
article  of  full  dress  as  a pair  of  gloves  would  be 
in  America,  or  a tin  sword  is  to  our  military 
organizations. 

When  Mexico  had  her  monthly  revolution, 
and  when  bandits  used  to  come  in  and  take  the 
town,  every  man  had  to  go  armed  in  order  to 
find  himself  after  the  cyclone;  but  she  has  com- 
parative peace  now,  yet  wearing  pistols  for  a 
hundred  years  has  made  it  quite  a habit.  I 
went  on  an  excursion  with  a party  of  harmless 
looking  Mexicans,  and  we  tried  to  sit  down  on  a 
bench,  and  every  man  and  boy  of  them  had  to 
unload  his  cannon  pocket  before  he  could  sit 
down — and  the  other  fellow  too. 

At  your  work,  the  law  supposes  you  to  be  un- 
armed, but  in  making  a journey,  though  it  be 
the  length  of  a street,  you  are  allowed  to  arm 
against  bandits.  On  every  first  and  second-class 
car,  ten  out  of  every  dozen  men  will  carry  huge 


56  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

revolvers,  but  you  might  live  there  for  months 
and  never  hear  of  a person  getting  shot. 

In  this  great  city,  everything  is  so  quiet  you 
are  constantly  enquiring  if  anything  has  hap- 
pened, or  is  happening,  or  has  any  likelihood  of 
happening ; you  cannot  understand  the  absence 
of  noise  and  bustle. 

It  finally  dawns  upon  you  that  the  native 
never  hurries.  He  has  mastered  the  ethics  of 
rest,  he  never  exerts  himself.  He  does  so  de- 
light to  sit  himself  down  long  and  often  and 
ponder  over  the  wear  and  tear  of  the  foreigner. 
The  state  feels  as  he  does  about  it,  so  it  has 
placed  comfortable  seats  everywhere,  where  the 
native  can  rest.  Just  rest.  He  never  “ Hellos” 
to  an  acquaintance  across  the  street ; if  he 
wishes  to  speak,  he  motions  with  his  hand.  All 
this  saves  wear  and  tear,  and  by  this  means, 
the  nation  has  6aved  vast  stores  of  conservated 
energy  to  use  in  the  next  world.  He  has  been 
saving  energy  for  four  hundred  years  and  has 
never  let  any  of  it  out. 

There  is  no  “ hello”  on  the  street,  and  no  ve- 
hicles, and  everybody  is  barefooted,  so  there  is 
no  noise.  They  don’t  “hello  ” in  the  telephone. 
They  talk  some  sweet,  musical  Spanish  in  it 
that  is  a real  pleasure  to  listen  to.  Instead  of 
thundering  back  “Who’s  that?”  he  sw*eetly 
says  “ Quien  liahla  ? ” — Who  speaks? 

The  national  watchword  is,  “Never  do  to-day 
what  you  can  possibly  put  off  till  to-morrow.” 
An  excursion  agent  went  to  a large  hotel  and 
asked  what  were  the  rates  per  day.  “Four  dol- 
lars,” said  the  major-domo.  “But  my  party 
contains  seventy  people,  what  rates  do  we  get 
for  the  party?”  “Four  dollars  and  a half 


San  Luis  Potosi. 


57 


each,  more  trouble.”  The  same  in  buying 
goods.  The  man  who  buys  wholesale  quanti- 
ties has  to  pay  for  the  extra  trouble  he  causes 
the  clerks. 

“ Poco  tiempo ,” — wait  a little,  is  the  national 
leveler  for  all  difficulties  and  broken  contracts. 
You  order  a suit  of  clothes  to  be  delivered  to- 
morrow. Tomorrow  never  comes— neither  do 
the  clothes.  You  get  down  your  dictionary  and 
hunt  up  all  the  cuss  words  you  can  command, 
and  hurl  them  at  that  tailor,  and  expect  to  see 
him  shrivel  up  before  you.  Does  he  ? Not  a 
shrivel  4 He  offers  you  a cigarette,  carefully 
rolls  one  for  himself  and  forces  wreaths  of  smoke 
through  his  nostrils,  and  turning  to  you  says: 
“ Poco  tiempo  ” — what’s  your  hurry?  Manana 
will  do,  tomorrow,  tomorrow,  manana  comes, 
and  also  another  poco  tiempo. 

You  engage  a guide  and  want  to  go  see  a 
place  you  have  come  a thousand  miles  to  see, 
and  want  to  start  this  afternoon.  “Well,  why 
not  manana  ? You  Americanos  do  hurry  through 
life  so!”  He  works  two  days,  carving  a wonder- 
ful cane  he  sells  for  a quarter.  His  two  days 
tiempo  count  for  nothing.  He  lives  in  yester- 
day and  today,  but  never  in  tomorrow.  He 
will  wait  for  the  millennium  but  will  never  go 
to  meet  it.  He  will  never  hurry  from  the  com- 
forts of  today  into  anxieties  of  tomorrow. 
Manana,  the  panacea  for  all  ills,  the  Nirvanah. 

The  language  of  gesture  has  a new  meaning 
here.  When  a person  wants  you  to  approach 
him,  he  frantically  motions  you  aw*ay.  When 
you  see  your  lady  acquaintance  across  the  street, 
and  she  motions  with  her  fingers  and  thumb  for 
you  to  come  to  her,  you  must  read  it  backwards 


58 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


because  she  does  not  mean  it,  she  is  simply 
recognizing  you. 

When  ladies  meet  and  re-enact  the  great  Amer- 
ican humbug  of  miscellaneous  kissing,  it  is 
always  given  and  received  on  the  cheek.  When 
two  gentlemen  meet,  they  rush  into  each  others 
arms  and  rapidly  pat  each  other  on  the  back 
with  the  right  hand,  and  finally  shake  hands, 
and  if  they  meet  each  other  a dozen  times  a day, 
they  effusively  shake. 

At  the  railway  station,  the  departing  friend 
embraces,  pats,  shakes,  and  jumps  aboard.  If 
the  train  is  delayed,  he  gets  out  again  and  talks 
until  the  conductor  cries,  “ VamanosP'  then  he 
goes  through  the  same  performance  again  with 
each  of  his  dozen  friends,  and  when  half  a dozen 
lugubrious  groups  are  similarly  engaged,  the 
conductor  simply  waits  until  they  have  finished. 

Indeed,  to  such  an  extent  does  this  leave-taking 
interfere  with  business  that  signs  are  placed 
up  asking  the  people  not  to  delay  business  by 
their  long  salutations. 

At  Guanajuato  the  following  sign  is  tacked 
up:  — 1*^  suplica  a los  pasajeroes  eviten  las 
despididas  y saludos  prolong adosque  retarder 
la  marcha  de  los  carros .” 

In  all  places  the  innate  politeness  and  courtesy 
of  the  people  show  a study  for  your  comfort. 
In  walking,  your  Mexican  friend  insists  that  you 
walk  on  the  inside  next  the  wall,  while  he  walks 
next  the  street.  In  accepting  an  invitation  for 
a carriage  drive,  you  must  enter  first  and  accept 
the  rear  seat ; but  if  a lady  invites  a gentleman 
he  is  not  supposed  to  accept  the  rear  seat  when 
offered.  After  the  drive  your  host  will  alight 
first  and  assist  you.  In  the  street  car,  the 


San  Luis  Potosi. 


59 


gentlemen  always  offer  their  places  to  ladies, 
and  salute  all  passengers  when  entering  and 
leaving  the  car.  People  have  said  they  also 
shake  hands  with  the  driver,  hut  I do  not  be- 
lieve all  I hear. 

When  you  are  introduced  to  a gentleman,  he 
tells  you  his  house  and  all  his  belongings  are 
yours,  giving  you  the  street  and  number,  and  says : 
“Now  you  know  where  your  house  is.”  If  you 
admire  his  horse  or  his  paintings  or  his  wife, 
he  says:  “ Take  them,  they  are  yours.”  To  be 
sure  you  are  not  expected  to  take  him  too  literally, 
but  it  shows  that  the  French  are  not  the  only 
people  who  claim  politeness  as  a national  trait. 

If  you  are  invited  to  his  house  for  refresh- 
ments, you  are  to  precede  your  host  on  entering, 
but  he  will  precede  to  the  door  when  you  signify 
your  readiness  to  depart. 

The  salutation  on  the  street  is  “ adios ,”  the 
equivalent  of  the  French  adieu , but  “ buenos 
dias ,”  “ buenos  tardes,”  and  li  buenos  noches  ” 
are  also  used  for  good  morning,  etc.,  and  are 
always  used  in  the  plural.  Why,  the  deponent 
sayeth  not.  One  of  the  adjuncts  of  an  introduc- 
tion, is  for  the  native  to  offer  his  cigarette  case; 
and  to  refuse  the  invitation  to  smoke,  is  to  also 
refuse  the  introduction,  and  this  little  custom 
nearly  brought  trouble  upon  the  writer’s  head. 
His  early  education  had  been  sadly  neglected, 
and  the  manly  art  of  smoking  had  never  been 
taught  him,  so  he  was  forced  to  practice  decep- 
tion on  his  kind  friends  .to  keep  the  peace.  The 
deadly  cigarette  is  rolled  in  the  thin  innershuck 
of  the  Indian  corn,  and  holds  its  shape  whether 
filled  or  not,  so  I filled  my  pocket  with  emp- 
ty cases,  When  my  new-made  friend  asked  that  I 


60  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

smoke  with  him  the  pipe  of  peace,  I replied 
cordially,  “ Si  Senor”  and  took  the  proffered 
cigarette,  and  with  the  same  hand  felt  in  my 
pocket  for  a match  and  exchanged  the  loaded 
cigarette  for  a harmless  one,  and,  presto!  I am  in 
good  form  and  all  goes  merry  as  a marriage  bell. 
He  tells  me  his  house,  his  sisters  and  all  he 
has  are  mine  for  ever,  and  I quietly  add  another 
item  to  my  million  dollar  possessions.  In  one 
summer  I have  acquired  more  wealth  and  real 
estate  and  beautiful  maidens  by  actual  gift, 
than  Jay  Gr.  and  Brigham  Y.  acquired  in  a life- 
time. 

Already  I have  become  a bloated  aristocrat, 
and  daily  receive  and  give  away  haciendas  that 
cover  nine  square  leagues  of  land. 

The  custom-house  officials  already  have  their 
eye  on  me,  and  are  even  now  figuring  on  the 
dividends  they  will  declare  when  I attempt  to 
leave  the  country,  but  every  bitter  has  its  anti- 
dote, so  I am  congratulating  myself  on  the  change 
of  dates.  A few  years  ago  I was  in  this  country 
when  each  state  collected  its  customs’  duties 
from  every  other  state,  and  that  sometimes 
meant  two  or  three  inspections  daily.  Now 
things  have  changed  and  they  inspect  only  on 
the  border,  so  I shall  have  fewer  bribes  to  offer 
the  officials  from  my  newly-acquired  millions. 

This  people’s  generosity  runs  them  into 
bankruptcy.  Once  a kind  friend  introduced 
himself  to  me,  said  he  always  did  like  my 
country  and  people,  said  he  had  a beautiful 
sister  named  Inez  and  she  was  mine.  “Take 
her,  senor,  she  is  yours,”  also  a whole  block  of 
buildings.  I thanked  him  profusely  and  be- 
gan to  take  stock  of  my  new  possessions,  when 


San  Luis  Potosi. 


61 


he  said  in  excellent  English,  “Have  you  a loose 
quarter  about  your  clothes  you  could  lend  me  to 
buy  a supper  ? ” We  had  reached  a part  of  the 
street  where  there  was  no  light  when  he  made 
his  modest  request,  and  he  had  his  hand  on  a very 
persuasive  looking  knife.  I had  my  eye  on  him 
and  my  hand  on  a good  revolver,  so  in  very  choice 
Texas  language  I told  him  I had  the  drop  on  him. 

After  reflecting  that  he  had  nearly  impover- 
ished himself  by  enriching  me  with  all  his  pos- 
sessions, I took  pity  on  him  and  gave  him  a 
pewter  quarter  that  some  of  my  dear  friends 
had  passed  on  me  that  very  morning.  Instinct- 
ively his  native  politeness  came  to  the  front, 
and  with  hat  in  hand  he  kotowed , and  in  the 
softest  of  Spanish  he  thanked  me  a thousand 
and  one  times,  and  incidentally  let  the  quarter 
fall  to  the  pavement  to  catch  the  ring  of  it. 
Proving  counterfeit  money  here  is  a regular 
trade  which  they  all  learn. 

Hereafter  I shall  positively  refuse  all  gifts, 
because  I am  going  to  call  upon  the  president, 
and  when  I admire  the  national  palace  he  will 
of  course  say:  “Take  it,  it  is  yours,”  and  it  will 
appear  ungrateful  in  me  to  refuse  it  and  mean  in 
me  to  accept  it,  because  all  new  presidents  have 
to  start  a revolution;  and  then  he  might  not  ap- 
preciate my  motives,  and  sometimes  they  do  not 
understand  American  jokes  till  a week  after  their 
perpetration.  This  is  due  to  British  influence 
at  the  embassy. 

In  the  Capital  I went  once  to  a hotel,  and  be- 
fore the  carriage  could  stop,  three  flunkies  fell 
over  themselves  grabbing  for  my  baggage,  they 
were  so  glad  to  see  me.  One  got  an  umbrella, 
one  a camera  and  one  a valise,  and  ran  up  stairs 


62 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


to  my  room  to  welcome  me,  and  this  welcome 
only  cost  me  twenty-five  cents. 

The  proprietor  wrung  my  hands  and  then 
wrung  his  own,  and  then  spreading  them  out 
with  a magnanimous  gesture  said:  “ This  hotel 
is  yours  senor,  and  all  my  servants;  just  make 
yourself  at  home.”  I blushed  profusely  and  told 
him  I certainly  appreciated  a four-story  stone 
front  on  San  Francisco  Street,  and  I would  re- 
member him  in  my  prayers. 

After  a week  of  his  hospitality,  when  I offered 
to  treat  him  to  a cigar,  he  incidentally  mentioned 
that  I owed  him  sixteen  reals  for  each  day  of 
my  pleasant  sojourn.  I asked  him  what  for. 
“ Your  room,  senor.”  I told  him  very  forcibly 
that  he  told  me  to  make  myself  at  home.  “ So 
I did,”  said  he.  “But  I never  pay  board  at 
home,”  said  I,  but  the  point  was  lost  on  him. 
He  -was  wearing  a British  hat,  impervious  to 
jokes.  Next  summer  he  will  ask  me  what  I meant. 

This  is  the  second  time  I have  got  into  trouble 
by  accepting  largesse,  and  for  the  first  time  I 
understand  what  the  old  Trojans  meant  when 
they  safid:  “Beware  of  Greeks  bearing  gifts.” 

Hereafter,  I shall  positively  refuse  all  gifts, 
and  sell  off  about  twenty  hotels  and  villas  and 
haciendas  which  I have  accumulated  beyond 
my  needs.  That  much  wealth  actually  inter- 
feres with  a man’s  rest  and  the  color  of  his  hair. 

While  in  this  state  of  mind  and  also  in  San 
Luis  Potosi,  I will  discourse  on  the  Bill  of  Fare. 
I know  a Boston  friend  who  would  have  said 
William  of  Fare,  but  I never  could  talk  Bos- 
toiiese,  and  just  plain  bill  of  fare  will  do  me, 
when  I am  traveling.  The  Texas  lingo  just 
says  “Hash,” 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  BILL  OE  FARE. 

F Cicero  was  right  in  his  Be  Senectute 


that  old  age  can  be  enjoyed  only  by  those 


who  in  youth  preserve  their  vigor,  then  the 
blessings  of  Nirvanah  are  the  rightful  inheri- 
tance of  Mexico,  and  she  will  never  lose  that 
inheritance  if  bustle  and  hurry  will  forfeit  it. 

The  hotels  are  run  to  suit  the  guests.  When 
you  arrive,  you  register,  and  when  you  next 
enter  the  corridor,  you  see  upon  the  large  black- 
board your  name,  room,  title,  residence,  desti- 
nation, past  history  and  future  prospects  and 
whatever  else  that  will  be  of  interest  to  the 
public.  Now  all  of  that  is  a labor-saving 
machine,  and  saves  nerve  tissue  and  wear  and 
tear. 

When  the  newspaper  reporter  wants  news,  he 
steps  into  the  hotel  corridor,  and  the  proprietor 
silently  points  to  the  blackboard  and  goes  to 
sleep  again.  The  reporter  reads  the  bulletin 
board  and  goes  off  and  writes  a two-column 
“ interview”  upon  what  Mr.  A.  thinks  of  Mexico, 
and  you  are  saved  all  unnecessary  prevaricating. 
The  system  is  also  very  helpful  to  the  police  in 
search  of  lost  friends  for  whom  they  have  formed 


63 


64  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

strong  attachments,  and  for  the  custom  house 
officials  who  have  word  that  )rou  passed  a cer- 
tain station  and  wdll  hear  watching.  The 
bulletin  board  is  a very  diverting  study  in  black 
and  white  for  ordinary  people,  who  look  for  the 
names  of  chance  friends  whom  they  do  not  ex- 
pect, but  who  might  be  there.  And  the  porters 
and  curio  vendors  scan  the  list  and  patiently 
await  }rour  arrival  on  the  street  and  tell  you  all 
about  yourself.  It  is  a regular  bunco  steer, 
but  he  is  different  from  the  genuine  article. 
The  g,  a.  will  enveigle  you  somewhere  and  beat 
you  on  the  sly.  The  Mexican  artist  stops  in 
the  broad  sunlight,  right  in  front  of  your  hotel 
and  beats  you  to  your  teeth. 

He  will  sell  you  curios  three  hundred  years  old 
that  he  made  last  month,  and  has  been  waiting 
every  day  since  for  a person  of  just  about  your 
.state  of  greenness  and  inexperience  to  sell  to. 
As  soon  as  he  fleeces  you,  he  kindly  offers  to 
find  other  rare  bric-a-brac  for  you  that  he  does 
not  deal  in,  and  will  take  you  to  his  pal  who  is 
working  other  pastures.  After  you  return  to 
your  friends  and  proudly  show  your  acquisi- 
tions, some  one  who  knows,  will  solemnly  diag- 
nose your  head  for  phrenological  knowledge. 
When  he  has  diagnosed  to  his  satisfaction,  he 
will  painfully  tell  you  that  your  bump  of  Jack- 
assedness  is  abnormally  developed.  He  will  ad- 
vise you  to  learn  that  little  line  of  Shakespeare, 
or  some  other  authentic  writer  that  says:  “I 
was  a stranger  and  ye  took  me  in.” 

The  hotel  Bulletin  is  a great  convenience. 
When  you  have  found  your  room,  you  take  an 
inventory,  which  will  serve  you  in  every  other 
city.  If  you  are  in  the  city  of  Mexico,  the  in- 


The  BUI  of  Fare. 


65 


ventory  includes  glass  windows  (elsewhere,  it 
wfill  be  windows  with  iron  bars)  an  iron  bedstead 
built  for  one — which  may  or  may  not  be  inhab- 
ited— an  iron  was1* stand  with  iron  enameled 
bowl  and  pitcher,  chair,  table,  half  a candle 
and  candlestick.  Kerosene  is  fifty  cents  a gal- 
lon. The  scarcity  of  wood  makes  itself  felt 
everywhere.  The  table,  door  and  chair  are  the 
only  things  made  from  that  precious  article. 
Stone  floors  forever,  which  may  be  or  may  not 
be  carpeted.  The  walls  are  decorated  with 
printed  placards  giving  the  price  per  day,  week, 
or  month,  sin  o con  comida — without  or  with 
board. 

The  marvel  of  the  establishment  is  the  door- 
key.  A man  wfith  such  a piece  of  iron  on  his 
person  in  the  States  would  be  arrested  for  car- 
rying concealed  weapons.  It  is  so  heavy  they 
have  made  arrangements  to  relieve  the  lodger 
from  carrying  it.  In  the  corridor  is  a keyrack 
with  numbers,  and  a man  stands  all  day  to  re- 
ceive your  key  wThen  you  go  out  and  to  return  it 
to  you  when  you  come  back.  The  servant  goes 
to  him  for  it  to  clean  up  the  room,  and  I have 
never  known  a lost  or  misplaced  article  under 
this  system.  The  lock  and  key  are  made  by 
hand  at  the  blacksmith  shop,  and  I think  are 
sold  by  the  pound.  They  are  usually  fastened 
upon  huge  rough  doors  made  in  the  carpenter 
shop,  and  put  together  with  three-inch  wrought 
iron  nails,  with  an  inch  or  more  of  the  point 
clinched  on  the  opposite  side  from  which  they 
are  driven.  Of  course  there  are  neither  fire- 
places nor  stoves  in  any  hotel,  but  one,  in  the 
whole  country. 

The  hotels  are  arranged  in  quadrangles,  with 


66  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

the  four  sides  facing  an  open  court,  redolent 
with  flowery  fragrance  and  fruits  and  bird 
music.  Usually  a fountain  plays  in  the  center, 
and  in  fair  weather  the  table  is  spread  here. 
Every  story  has  an  open  veranda  which  looks 
upon  this  court.  In  the  City  of  Mexico,  the 
thermometer  hesitates  between  65  and  75°F,  so 
when  the  rainy  season  is  not  on,  meals  can  bo 
had  in  the  patio  the  year  around.  In  the  morn- 
ing you  rise  at  six  or  ten  or  any  other  hour  that 
suits  your  fancy.  No  bells  rung,  no  doors  shaken, 
no  noise  made — you  are  simply  let  alone,  and 
when  you  come,  no  frowns  for  your  delay. 

You  ask  when  is  the  breakfast  hour.  “ When 
the  senor  wishes.”  If  you  go  to  the  table  at 
six  the  servant  brings  hot  coffee  and  rolls,  as 
though  the  whole  establishment  was  wound  up 
to  start  at  that  minute.  Should  you  sit  down 
at  half  past  nine,  the  Senora  would  declare  by 
all  the  saints  as  witnesses  that  you  are  just  in 
time  and  she  was  looking  for  you  at  that  mo- 
ment. You  feel  that  you  might  be  discommod- 
ing the  establishment,  so  you  ask  for  the  dinner 
hour.  The  answer  will  be  graciously  given, 
“From  twelve  to  three-thirty  we  shall  be 
honored  to  serve  you,  and  if  not  at  those  hours, 
when  the  Senor  wishes.”  Finally  you  learn 
that  there  is  no  dinner  hour,  the  bell  is  never 
rung,  the  table  is  never  set,  but  whenever  you 
choose  to  eat,  the  servants  are  to  serve  you.  An 
ordinary  dinner  lasts  two  hours  and  these  meals 
are  what  the  people  live  for.  The  following,  for 
one  day  may  be  termed  an  average : 


The  Bill  of  Fare. 


67 


BILL  OF  LADING. 

BREAKFAST. 

Coffee,  Bread,  Cookies. 


DINNER. 

Soup. 

Rice.  Radishes. 

-Eggs. 

’,  Cora,  Snap-beans,  Cabbage,  Parsnips,  Gambane. 
Steak,  Potatoes. 

Sausage,  Chili. 

Brains. 

Frijoles.  (black  beans), 

Coffee,  Fruits,  Wine,  Cigars. 
******* 


SUPPER. 

Soup,  Vermicelli. 

Mutton,  Potatoes,  Chili. 

Mutton  Chops,  Potatoes,  Calabashes. 

Chicken  with  Salad,  Stewed  Bananas,  Frogs. 
Frijoles. 

Preserves,  Fruits,  Wines,  Cigars. 
******* 

The  stars  stand  for  certain  dishes  that  only 
Mexicans  call  for  and  their  name  and  flavor 
would  never  be  known  to  a foreigner.  The 
coffee  is  grown  in  the  state  of  Vera  Cruz  and  is 
excellent,  and  is  made  strong  and  thick.  The 
usual  method  of  serving  is  to  half-fill  your  cup, 
and  add  an  equal  quantity  of  milk.  It  is 
sweetened  with  little  cubes  of  white  sugar,  or 
the  native  brown  article,  called  pilonces. 

The  bread  used  for  breakfast  is  a species  of 
cooky  that  represents  the  baker’s  highest  art. 
Nothing  approaching  it  have  I found  elsewhere. 
Prosquitos  de  la  manteca  it  is  called,  and  is  made 
into  rings,  loops  and  bows.  It  is  brittle,  crisp 
and  sweetened,  but  not  so  much  as  a doughnut. 
Another  kind  is  prepared  in  spherical  segments 
and  crescents,  and  is  built  of  numbers  of  exceed- 
ingly thin  layers  of  dough  with  fruit  between, 


Beei 


68  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

and  so  frail,  that  when  once  broken  it  falls  to 
pieces  in  crisp  fragments  like  Prince  Rupert’s 
Drops,  the  glass  phenomena  the  teacher  in 
Physics  used  to  astound  us  with.  How  they 
can  give  it  the  tension  to  lly  to  pieces  was  one 
of  the  things  that  a layman  in  the  cooking  art 
does  not  imbibe  freely.  This  fabric  is  very  ap- 
propriately called  pastel.  The  distinctive  feature 
of  the  meal  is,  they  give  you  only  one  thing  at 
a time  in  the  order  I have  numbered  them,  and 
they  come  in  serials  as  unchanging  as  the  seasons. 

After  a few  meals  you  become  quite  expert  in 
guessing  what  will  come  next. 

If  there  are  ten  plates  stacked  by  you,  you 
know  there  will  be  ten  courses  of  one  dish  each. 
You  have  already  learned  that  soup,  rice  and 
eggs  are  the  first  three,  and  the  next  to  the  last 
is  always  beans  with  coffee  closing,  so  you  have 
only  five  to  guess.  Mira-bile  dictu , the  national 
dish  and  universal  dessert  is  beans,  just  ordinary 
beans,  but  the  people  don’t  know  enough  to  say 
‘beans,’  they  spell  it frijoles  and  pronounce  it 
free-hole-ahs.  You  will  notice  that  they  spell 
better  than  they  pronounce.  As  a labor  of  pure 
love  and  charity  to  my  fellow  countrymen  of 
Boston,  I say  to  them,  beware ! Your  prestige 
is  in  danger.  As  a race  of  bean-eaters,  the 
Mexicans  have  about  three  hundred  years  the 
start  of  you  and  they  have  about  nine  different 
varieties  to  practice  on,  and  a different  aroma 
of  garlic  to  fit  each  one.  Besides  all  that  they 
eat  beans . There  are  thirty-five  tribes  of  Indians 
in  Mexico,  speaking  one  hundred  and  fifty  lan- 
guages and  dialects,  but  they  are  all  united  on 
frijoles , and  they  have  entered  the  contest  to 
beat  Boston  or  eat  up  all  the  beans. 


The  Bill  of  Fare . 


69 


The  national  dish  is  a trinity,  composed  of 
frijoles , tortillas  and  chili.  The  tortilla  is  of 
common  stock  but  aristocratic  in  association. 
You  sit  at  the  table  as  a foreigner,  and  baker’s 
bread  will  be  set  before  you,  and  the  Mexican 
at  your  left  will  be  the  governor  of  the  state 
and  the  waiter  brings  him  a stack  or  tortillas. 

The  tortillas  reduced  to  United  States’  talk  is 
just  corn  batter  cakes.  The  architectural  plan 
of  their  building  is  simple.  The  corn  is  put  in 
lime  water  over  night  to  soak  and  soften,  and 
the  next  morning  is  put  on  a hot  stone,  and  the 
women  take  another  stone  and  pound  it  into 
meal ; then  they  take  water  and  make  it  up  into 
cakes  and  half  cook  on  a stone  and  stack  them. 
No  salt  or  grease  or  any  thing  but  water  is  put 
with  it.  They  look  like  circles  of  brown  sole- 
leather  and,  when  about  three  days  old  are 
about  as  tough  and  tasteless.  This  is  the  bread 
of  Mexico,  the  staff  of  life.  The  approved 
method  of  eating  it,  is  to  spread  it  out,  put  on 
a spoonful  of  frijoles  and  roll  it  into  a cylinder, 
then  eat  it  as  though  it  were  a banana. 

Chili  is  the  third  member  of  the  trinity  and 
is  everything  else  but  chilly — it  is  hot.  It  in- 
cludes every  kind  of  green,  red  and  yellow 
pepper,  and  is  cooked  with  nearly  every  article 
of  food,  and  is  cooked  by  itself  and  is  eaten 
raw,  but  is  hot  always.  The  natives  eat  so  much 
chili  that  it  acts  as  an  antiseptic,  and  I was 
told  by  a man  who  ought  to  know  that  in  the 
Mexican  war  soldiers  left  on  the  field  lay  dead 
for  weeks  and  could  not  decay  but  dried  up. 
That  is  true  now,  but  it  is  not  chili  but  altitude 
that  prevents  dissolution.  Fresh  meat  cannot 
spoil  nor  can  vegetables  rot.  I can  stand  chili 


TO 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


in  broken  doses,  but  when  they  gave  me  a big 
green  pepper  as  large  as  an  apple  and  stuifed 
with  stuffing  and  dressed  with  dressing  and 
swimming  in  an  innocent  looking  sauce  and 
disguised  with  a name  I never  heard  of  before, 
do  you  blame  me  if  I thought  I had  struck  a 
new  tropical  fruit  and  cut  a respectable  quarter 
of  it  off  and  made  its  acquaintance?  Did  I raise 
a howl  ? Ask  of  the  winds  that  far  around  with 
fragments  strewed  the  sea. 

If  ever  I catch  that  girl  outside  of  the  state 
of  Yera  Cruz  I shall  teach  her  a lesson.  Her 
name  was  Guadalupe,  but  she  lacks  much  of 
being  a model  follower  of  the  good  saint  by  that 
name.  She  gave  me  green  gourds  stewed  with 
water  cress  or  some  other  green  thing  I never 
heard  of  and  called  it  calabash,  and  I knew  no 
better.  Then. she  gave  me  cabbage  boiled  -with 
bananas  and  bread  fruit,  and  said  that  was  all 
the  style  in  Vera  Cruz,  and  finally  she  invented 
this  other  villainy.  She  thinks  I am  not  accus- 
tomed to  fine  living,  but  I hope  yet  to  have  my 
revenge.  If  she  crosses  the  river  into  Texas,  I 
mean  to  get  her  into  a railroad  eating-house 
there  and  compel  her  to  eat  some  of  those  terra- 
cotta images  they  sell  for  ham  sandwiches,  and 
when  lock-jaw  sets  in,  she  will  have  to  keep  her 
mouth  shut  as  long  as  I had  to  keep  mine  open 
with  that  loaded  green  pepper. 

When  these  people  get  hold  of  any  meat,  they 
roll  it  up  in  the  tortilla  and  call  it  enchilada. 
They  cook  light  bread  after  the  pattern  of  a 
naval  torpedo.  The  loaf  is  about  the  size  of  a 
Mason’s  fruit  jar,  pointed  at  both  ends  like  a 
torpedo,  and  baked  to  a crust  half  an  inch 
thick.  Such  a loaf  would  do  you  bodily  injury 


The  Bill  of  Fare. 


71 


in  the  hands  of  your  enemy.  I saw  so  many 
curious  things  brought  from  the  invisible  work- 
shop. I found  my  way  back  there  and  told  the 
cook  I was  in  pursuit  of  knowledge  and  wanted 
to  see,  and  veni  vidi — I learned.  No  stove,  not 
an  iron  or  tin  or  metal  vessel  of  any  kind  was 
visible  in  the  land  without  chimneys. 

A wall  of  earth  and  masonry  is  built  up,  waist 
high,  like  a blacksmith’s  forge.  All  around 
this  are  port-holes  in  which  the  charcoal  fire 
is  made,  and  all  over  the  top  of  the  forge  are 
holes  for  the  cooking  vessels,  which  are  made  of 
unglazed  earthenware,  and  this  is  all.  The 
charcoal  makes  no  smoke,  so  there  is  no  need  of 
chimneys.  Necessity  is  the  mother  and  grand- 
mother of  invention,  and  these  people  have 
jogged  along  five  hundred  years  without  iron 
vessels,  and  they  cook  about  as  well  as  some  folks 
I know. 

The  servants  are  models  of  their  kind.  With 
their  sandaled  feet  they  glide  about  without 
noise  and  do  their  work  without  murmur.  You 
leave  your  soiled  linen  in  their  charge  and  find 
it  on  your  bed  as  white  as  snow.  They  receive 
your  gratuity  with  a thousand  thanks  and  pro- 
found obeisance,  stumble  over  their  own  feet  to 
do  you  some  unnecessary  service,  and  as  soon  as 
off  duty  they  offer  to  guide  you  about  the 
city.  They  are  rarely  off  duty  until  they  have  put 
in  sixteen  hours  of  hard  work,  then  the  blanket 
and  stone  floor  make  the  only  parenthesis  be- 
tween his  day’s  grind  and  tomorrow.  The  serv- 
ing class  is  more  servile  than  can  be  found 
anywhere.  They  take  more  abuse  and  less 
wages.  Five  dollars  a month,  Mexican  money, 
is  high  water  mark  for  female  servants,  and 


72  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

that  reduced  to  American  money  means  forty 
dollars  a year.  When  spoken  to  by  a superior, 
they  must  always  answer  in  a deprecating  man- 
ner as:  “Ever  at  your  service “Yours  to 
obey;”  “At  your  command,”  etc. 

All  pretentious  houses  and  hotels  are  built  in 
quadrangles,  with  a carriage  driveway  enter- 
ing a huge  gate  to  the  open  court.  At  night 
this  is  closed  by  a pair  of  tall  gates  or  doors 
twelve  or  fifteen  feet  high,  like  those  in  front  of 
our  fire  companies,  and  a servant  must  lie  there 
all  night  to  answer  a summons  or  to  admit  a 
belated  lodger.  Without  changing  the  clothes 
he  has  worn  all  day,  he  lies  on  the  soft  side  of  a 
stone  pavement  night  after  night  with  his 
zerape  or  a piece  of  straw  matting  under  him,- 
and  a stone  for  a pillow.  In  the  interior,  women 
servants  often  lie  on  the  floor  in  hallways,  in 
order  to  be  handy  should  a guest  need  light  or 
water  during  the  night,  or  to  admit  lodgers  to 
upper  floors  after  closing  time,  and  they  also 
sleep  in  the  clothes  they  wear  during  the  day. 

Travelers  on  the  ocean  either  lose  or  gain  a 
day  in  crossing  the  line,  depending  upon  which 
direction  they  are  going,  and  in  Mexico  you 
either  lose  a meal  or  gain  a surplus  name  for 
one  you  did  not  get. 

The  morning  lunch  of  bread  and  coffee  is 
called  deseyuno.  The  breakfast  proper,  from 
twelve  to  three,  is  almuerzo.  From  four  to 
eight  is  the  principal  meal  called  comida,  dinner, 
or  cena , supper,  whichever  you  choose  to  call  it. 
I tried  faithfully  to  keep  up  with  them  all,  but 
I always  felt  that  I had  lost  something  in  keep- 
ing tally  on  four  meals  and  only  remembered 
eating  three.  I believe  there  is  a trick  in  it. 


The  Bill  of  Fare. 


73 


Salt  meats  are  never  seen  except  in  American 
restaurants,  and  they  sell  at  fifty  cents  a pound. 
Pork  is  always  dressed  by  skinning  the  animal 
and  not  by  scraping.  No  person  needs  to  go  to 
market.  Everything  is  brought  to  your  door 
by  peddlers.  • The  table  is  usually  set  in  the  court 
among  the  flowers,  and  it  is  a very  common  oc- 
currence for  peddlers  to  go  to  the  head  of  the 
table  with  a basket  of  fruit  and  dicker  bargains 
with  the  hostess  during  the  meal.  This  method 
makes  the  meat  supply  very  precarious  except 
on  Monday.  After  the  bull-fights  Sunday  after- 
noon, all  the  slaughtered  bulls  are  sold  to  the 
market. 

On  Monday  when  the  proprietor  asks  me  how 
I liked  my  steak,  I always  feel  like  giving  him 
some  American  slang  and  saying,  “It  was  bully.” 
The  fruits  are  the  very  best,  and  as  the  season 
is  perpetual,  you  can  secure  them  fresh  every 
day,  such  as  strawberries,  bananas,  pine  ap- 
ples, mangos,  figs,  limes  and  agua  cates  or  bread 
fruit.  The  lime  is  larger  than  the  orange,  but 
not  so  sweet  and  is  used  in  the  place  of  lemons. 
It  is  at  the  market  place  where  you  see  the 
fruits  in  all  their  profusion,  and  are  tempted  to 
eat  your  dinner  under  the  unusual  surroundings. 

Here  you  eat  by  faith,  the  substance  of  things 
hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen. 
I hope  no  one  will  accuse  me  of  irreverence  for 
using  these  words*  but  they  just  suit  me  in  this 
particular. 

A suitable  motto  for  the  general  market  eating 
houses  ought  to  be  tacked  over  the  entrance, 
and,  with  suitable  apologies  to  Mr.  Dante’s 
Inferno,  that  motto  ought  to  read:  “Who 
enters  here  leaves  Soap  behind.”  The  cooking 


74 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


is  done  while  you  wait,  and  chief  among  the 
things  you  eat  by  faith  is  the  hot  tamale — twice 
hot,  once  by  pepper  and  once  by  steam.  The 
vendor  has  a large  tinned  bucket  enclosed  by  a 
blanket  to  hold  the  steam,  and  the  whole  con- 
tained in  a willow  basket.  If  your  faith  is  suf- 
ficient, you  call  for  a dozen  tamales  and  the 
vendor  fishes  from  its  steaming,  greasy  depths, 
an  article  wrapped  in  sections  of  corn  shucks. 
On  dissecting  the  article  you  find  about  equal 
parts  of  corn  meal,  chili  and  bits  of  meat.  And 
the  meat!  Aye,  there’s  the  rub!  If  we  only 
knew.  There  are  tamales  and  tamales.  All 
kinds  and  conditions  of  meat  are  said  to  find  a 
last  resting  place  in  the  tamale.  Carlyle  calls 
the  process  Sartor  Besartus , or  the  tailor  made 
over;  the  great  American  faith  article  of  the 
same  vintage  is  plain  “hash.” 

Beef,  pork,  chicken,  frogs  and  armadillos  are 
all  known  to  the  trade,  and  dark  hints  or  innuen- 
does to  that  effect,  say  that  the  fat  prairie  dogs 
and  the  Chilhuahua  pups  make  prime  tamales. 
The  prairie  dog  is  always  fat.  The  Chilhuahua 
pup  is  only  a vest-pocket  edition  of  dog  that 
weighs  about  two  pounds,  and  the  other  genus 
or  species  of  Mexican  dog  that  I know  has  a 
blue  skin  and  no  hair  except  on  the  end  of  his 
tail.  The  ordinary  tamale  is  anonymous,  and 
it  is  well,  for,  like  the  boarding  house  hash,  it 
is  better  in  cog. 

The  tunas  from  the  prickly  pear  and  the  algae 
from  the  canals  and  irrigating  ditches  also  enter 
into  the  bill  of  fare.  With  conscious  pride  in 
my  ability  to  grapple  with  the  unknown,  I made 
a foolish  boast  that  there  was  nothing  in  the 
Mexican  market  that  my  stomach  had  bolted  at, 


The  Bill  of  Fare. 


75 


although  my  taste  and  my  stomach  had  some 
pretty  lively  debates  concerning  the  editorial  fit- 
ness and  filthiness  of  certain  things. 

But  in  an  evil  hour  I boasted.  I believe  the 
good  book  says  pride  goeth  before  a fall.  I was 
proud.  I had  bearded  the  Mexican  lion  in  his 
den  and  had  eaten  through  the  lines.  I had 
met  the  enemy  and  “they  were  our’n,”  and  I 
boasted  of  my  cast-iron  stomach. 

My  friend  said:  “ Have  you  eaten  any  Gusanas 
de  la  Maguey  ? No?  Well,  come  with  me.” 
Now  gentle  reader,  “If  you  have  tears  prepare 
to  shed  them  now.”  You  have  seen  a tomato- 
worm.  Well  ! the  word  gusana  means  worm, 
and  this  particular  gusana  is  built  on  the 
order  of  a tomato  worm,  but  he  lives  in  better 
pasture  on  the  maguey  plant,  and  grows  a little 
larger  and  a little  fatter  than  your  middle  finger, 
or  say  the  size  of  a cannon  fire-cracker. 

As  we  approached  the  market  my  knees  got 
weak.  I had  had  my  pride,  and  was  now  going 
for  my  f — gusanas. 

I felt  that  a volcanic  eruption  was  about  to 
take  place  in  my  immediate  neighborhood,  and 
remarked  that  nature  was  very  kind  to  these 
people.  My  friend  neither  stopped  nor  made  a 
shadow  of  turning,  but  marched  straight  to  a 
sorcerer  he  knew  and  said,  “ Senora,  my  friend  is 
anxious  for  some  gusanas  de  la  maguey  at  my 
expense.” 

She  slowly  fished  up  a dozen  stewed,  and  'I 
fainted ! ( Curtain. ) 


CHAPTER  V. 

IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  LAJA. 
EYOND  San  Luis  we  come  to  Villa  Reyes 


with  the  immense  Hacienda  of  Jaral, 


-J— — ^ which  at  one  time  controlled  20,000  peon 
laborers,  and  during  the  Revolution  of  1810, 
furnished  a full  regiment  of  cavalry  to  the  Vice- 
roy to  fight  the  patriots.  Beyond  is  the  town  of 
Dolores  Hidalgo,  “The  Sorrowful  Hidalgo,” 
where  was  born  Hidalgo,  the  George  Washington 
of  Mexican  Independence.  Sept.  15,  1810,  he  set 
the  watchfires  burning  which  dimmed  not  till 
Spanish  misrule  was  ended  in  1820.  Still  nearby, 
is  the  city  of  San  Miguel  De  Allende,  also  named 
for  Allende,  another  patriot  priest  who,  like 
Hidalgo,  suffered  martydom  for  Mexican  lib- 


erty. 


Here  are  the  famous  baths,  with  the  wTater 
gushing  from  the  mountain  side,  through  the 
baths  to  the  evergreen  gardens  and  fruits  and 
flowers  in  the  valley.  This  city  is  situated  on 
the  enchanted  Cerro  de  Moctezuma,  and  over- 
looks the  beautiful  valley  of  the  Laja  (Lah-hah. ) 
The  Hotel  Allende  was  once  the  palatial  home  of 
a wealthy  and  pious  man,  Senor  Don  Manuel 
Tomas  de  la  Canal  and  his  wife  who  donated  the 
chapel  of  the  Casa  de  Loreto.  Here  is  a beau- 
tiful Gothic  church,  the  only  one  in  Mexico, 


76 


In  the  Valley  of  the  Laja. 


77 


and  was  the  work  of  a native  architect  who 
drew  his  plans  with  a stick  in  the  sand,  and 
this  was  the  only  guide  his  workmen  had.  A 
dozen  miles  from  San  Miguel  is  the  town  of 
Atontonilto,  famous  as  the  place  where  Allende 
and  Hidalgo  started  with  the  Banner  of  the 
Virgin  of  Guadalupe,  and  marched  with  it  to 
San  Miguel  and  opened  the  Revolution.  Hero 
we  leave  the  plain  and  enter  the  Vale  of  Laja, 
250  miles  north  of  the  city  of  Mexico.  Before 
us  is  a frowning  gateway  of  solid  rock,  but  fol- 
lowing the  shimmering  little  river,  the  beautiful 
valley  breaks  upon  the  view  like  a panorama. 
Everywhere  is  the  pepper  tree,  loaded  to  the  tips 
with  the  beautiful  berries  that  look  so  much 
like  our  cherries.  Dame  Nature  here  is  at  her 
best.  Bananas,-  oranges,  lemons  and  pome- 
granates evt  ry where  shade  the  peaceful  homes 
whose  acres  in  the  rear  are  covered  with  maize 
and  pepper  and  fruits  and  flowers. 

The  people  of  Mexico  do  not  live  in  the  coun- 
try, but  in  cities,  towns  and  hamlets,  and  prefer 
to  thus  live  and  travel  long  distances  to  their 
work.  In  the  Vale  of  Laja,  it  is  one  continual 
series  of  hamlets,  wThere  the  canon  has  widened 
into  a beautiful  valley  whose  season  is  perpetual 
summer.  Whatever  grows  elsewThere,  grows 
here.  Up  the  rocky  slopes  where  cultivation  is 
impossible,  the  rich  lava  soil  still  supports 
countless  thousands  of  maguey  and  cactus 
plants  that  produce  food  and  fuel,  drink  and 
clothing.  The  bushels  of  succulent  tunas  that  a 
single  cactus  bears,  will  feed  a family  for  weeks, 
and  the  only  labor  required  is  the  picking.  A stalk 
of  maguey  will  furnish  in  its  undeveloped  bud  an 
excellent  substitute  for  cabbage.  The  unfer- 


78  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

mented  sap  is  the  agua  miel , or  honey  water  of 
commerce.  When  fermented,  a single  stalk  will 
furnish  for  months  a gallon  a day  of  pulque. 

Its  broad  leaves,  which  are  eight  feet  long, 
furnish  a thatch  for  the  house,  and  when  dried, 
an  excellent  fuel.  It  is  here  the  natives  laze 
their  time  away  from  sheer  ennui.  It  is  in  this 
valley  the  railroad  contractors  never  go  to  hunt 
laborers.  A Mexican  works  when  he  is  hungry, 
and  why  should  he  be  hungry  in  this  valley 
where  his  rations  may  be  had  for  the  picking  ? 
And  what  would  he  do  with  money  ? The  saloon 
has  no  charms  where  every  man  is  his  own  dis- 
tiller, and  the  law  gives  no  occasion  for  “ moon- 
shine ” and  “blind  tiger.”  So  it  is  the  poor 
plains’  people  who  grade  the  road  and  drive  the 
spikes,  and  even  here  the  railroad  people  exper- 
ience difficulties.  The  native  has  an  inseparable 
attachment  for  his  humble  home,  and  will  not 
under  any  circumstance  follow  a construction 
gang  far.  When  the  construction  train  has 
passed  his  home  two  or  three  miles,  he  finds  it 
too  far  to  return  home  at  night,  and  the  next 
day  he  bolts  for  home,  and  the  company  has  to 
hire  new  laborers  in  the  neighborhood ; but  when 
the  work  gets  too  far  to  walk  home,  they  throw 
up  their  jobs  also.  If  a few  are  influenced  to 
remain,  the  wThole  family  joins  the  procession, 
and  move  their  temporary  residence  each  day. 
The  same  is  true  of  the  army.  When  on  the 
march  it  rarely  has  to  supply  a commissary,  as 
each  soldier’s  wife  follows  the  march  and  cooks 
for  him.  In  the  midst  of  each  hamlet  in  this 
valley  is  to  be  seen  the  ever-present  bell  tower, 
and,  clustered  among  the  orange  trees,  the  little 
chapel.  The  native  may  have  no  other  resting 


In  the  Valley  of  the  Laja.  79 

place  but  mother  earth,  but  his  last  penny  will 
go  to  build  his  church. 

While  drinking  in  the  beauties  of  the  valley, 
we  suddenly  turn  into  the  equally  beautiful  city 
of  Celaya,  in  the  state  of  Guanajuata. 

In  1570,  sixteen  married  men  and  seventeen 
bachelors  founded  the  town,  and  it  increased  so 
in  population,  that  in  1655,  by  a decree  of 
Philip  IY,  of  Spain,  it  was  made  a city,  but  it 
was  three  years  afterwards  that  the  inhabitants 
found  it  out.  For  beauty  and  importance  of 
location,  Celaya  has  no  peer.  Here  is  a junc- 
tion of  the  two  most  important  railroads,  the 
Central  and  National,  which  offer  transportation 
in  every  direction  for  the  product  of  its  woolen 
mills  and  the  extensive  haciendas  throughout 
the  valley. 

This  is  a great  market  for  opals.  As  a pre- 
cious stone,  the  opal  ranks  high,  but  on  account 
of  its  reputed  bad  luck,  there  are  people  who 
would  not  wear  one  as  a gift.  Those  of  Hungary 
and  Australia  are  harder  than  these,  but  the 
fiery,  prismatic  glint  of  the  opals  of  Celaya  sur- 
passes any  in  the  old  country.  I have  heard  of 
a fourteen  carat  opal  in  Hungary  that  could  not 
be  bought  for  five  thousand  dollars.  In  Celaya 
they  are  of  all  grades  and  all  prices,  but  the 
most  remarkable  thing  about  them  is,  in  Celaya 
everybody  offers  them  for  sale.  It  does  not 
matter  when  the  train  arrives,  in  the  grey  of 
morning  or  the  dead  of  night,  the  ragged  vendors 
are  always  on  hand.  As  the  train  pulls  into  the 
station,  a hundred  hands  will  be  thrust  through 
the  fence  pickets,  and  in  each  hand,  on  a piece 
of  black  cloth,  lie  the  beautiful  gems,  sparkling 
in  the  artificial  light. 


80  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

“All  Americanos  are  rich,”  is  a saying  of 
these  people,  as  honestly  believed  as  the  cate- 
chism, and  all  prices  are  made  on  that  basis. 
If  your  early  education  has  been  neglected  in 
the  line  of  precious  stones,  you  will  do  well  to 
let  these  pirates  pass,  for  they  are  Shylocks  all, 
these  black-eyed  natives. 

One  will  look  you  in  the  eye,  cross  himself 
and  swear  by  all  the  saints  that  fifty  dollars  or 
nothing  will  move  his  opal. 

If  you  know  your  business  and  the  price  of 
opals,  you  have  the  money  in  your  hand,  and  as 
the  train  starts,  hold  the  silver  temptingly  be- 
fore his  eyes,  and  rare  is  the  case  when  this 
will  not  “fetch”  him. 

An  opal  may  be  precious,  but  to  a hungry 
man,  silver  is  more  precious.  And  that  little 
trick  is  good  for  other  trades  as  well  as  opals. 

Anxiety  or  interest  on  your  part  is  as  fatal 
as  greenness  in  trading  with  these  sharpers. 
Utter  contempt  and  unconcern  on  your  part, 

' throws  the  burden  of  concern  upon  him,  and  he 
soon  begins  to  make  concessions  by  asking  how 
much  will  you  give.  However  much  you  may 
want  a thing,  you  must  impress  him  that  it  is 
purely  a matter  of  sympathy  for  his  poverty 
that  you  buy.  You  may  slyly  hear  him  set  the 
price  to  one  of  his  countrymen,  and  when  you 
come  up  and  ask  the  price,  without  turning  a 
hair,  he  will  multiply  it  by  two. 

The  city  of  Celaya  has  much  of  interest  in 
the  church  line,  which  is  the  base  of  all  great- 
ness in  this  priest-ridden  land.  These  are  said 
to  be  the  prettiest  churches  in  Mexico.  The 
one  of  Our  Lady  of  Carmen  contains  the  chapel 
of  the  Last  Judgment  and  the  most  beautiful 


In  the  Valley  of  the  Laja.  81 

paintings  and  frescoes.  San  Francisco,  San 
Augustin,  Tercer  Orden  are  all  hung  with  paint- 
ings of  the  Michael  Angelo  of  Mexico,  Eduardo 
Tresguerres,  painter,  architect  and  sculptor,  a 
native  of  Celaya. 

The  public  buildings  are  worth  seeing  and 
the  baths  are  delightful.  I have  never  heard 
this  town  spoken  of  in  connection  with  beauti- 
ful women,  but  the  most  beautiful  madonna 
face  I have  seen  outside  a picture  frame,  I saw 
here  at  the  railroad  station,  and  the  artist 
who  would  paint  a picture  of  beauty  should 
seek  this  Celayan  Helen,  and  yet  from  her  ap- 
parel, she  was  of  humble  family,  but  so  was 
Cinderella. 

This  city  is  especially  noted  for  its  dulcies, 
or  sweetmeats,  and  here  are  made  the  best  in 
Mexico.  To  be  in  good  form  of  course  you 
must  eat  some  Celayan  dulcies;  and  having 
satisfied  your  conscience,  we  pass  into  the  Yale 
of  Solis. 

N o serpent  ever  made  a more  tortuous  track 
than  did  our  train,  trying  to  leave  that  valley 
through  the  canon  cut  by  the  fretful  little  river 
in  ages  past.  Up  the  perpendicular  cliffs  which 
would  shame  Niagara,  we  find  a trail  blasted 
from  the  granite  sides  just  wide  enough  to  ad- 
mit the  track.  Under  a beetling  cliff  we  pass 
El  Salto  dc  Medina,  or  Medina’s  Leap.  So  goes 
the  story:  Juan  Medina  was  a famous  bandit 
when  those  gentlemen  of  the  road  carried  the 
riches  and  cares  of  the  country  upon  their  shoul- 
ders, and  most  generously  relieved  the  good 
people  of  all  trouble  in  looking  after  their 
wealth.  Spanish  history  does  not  mention  that 
they  ever  received  a vote  of  thanks  for  the  self 


82 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


imposed  duties,  but  such  is  the  nature  of  this 
sordid  world.  But  one  day  a committee  did 
call  upon  the  bandit  on  some  very  pressing  busi- 
ness when  he  was  not  receiving  guests.  Perhaps 
the  committee  had  forgotten  his  “day  at  home.” 
The  intrusion  so  disturbed  the  bandit  that  he 
started  away  on  the  pony  express,  and  the  com- 
mittee actually  began  shooting  at  him,  and,  see- 
ing no  other  escape  from  his  friends,  he  spurred 
his  horse  over  the  chasm  and  was  dashed  to 
atoms.  I did  not  see  the  atoms,  but  I saw  the 
cliff  three  or  four  hundred  feet  high,  and  if  you 
believe  the  first  part  of  the  story,  the  atomic 
theory  was  easy. 

Not  a shrub  is  visible  to  mar  the  vision  of 
this  huge  pile  of  granite  reaching  a thousand 
feet  in  the  air.  Creeping  along  its  side  we 
enter  the  Lopilote  Canon,  almost  as  dark  as  a tun- 
nel. There  must  be  something  in  a name.  Lo- 
pilote means  buzzard,  and  I suppose  it  is  called 
Lopilote  canon  because  the  buzzards  have  no 
where  else  to  roost  but  on  the  edge  of  the  canon, 
as  there  is  not  a bush  visible.  It  reminds  me  of 
the  man  who  had  a horse  that  was  named  Na- 
poleon, all  on  account  of  the  bony  part.  On  the 
rear  platform  is  the  place  to  stand.  This  is  a 
narrow-guage  road,  and  only  has  room  for  the 
cars  with  no  margin  for  landscape.  Standing 
on  the  steps  you  can  easily  touch  the  rock  wall 
on  one  side  with  your  hand,  while  on  the  other 
you  may  hear  the  splash  of  the  imprisoned 
waters  over  a sheer  fall  of  many  hundreds  of 
feet,  but  nothing  can  be  seen.  The  engineer 
can  see  only  one  coach  behind  his  engine-  as  he 
makes  his  famous  curve  of  35  degrees,  the  short- 
est on  any  road  in  America.  Up  and  straight 


In  the  Valley  of  the  Laja.  83 

ahead,  where  the  eye  can  see  only  granite  walls 
with  peaks  bathed  in  clouds,  and  no  visible 
means  of  passage,  but  at  last  light  breaks 
through  the  top,  and  the  devil’s  hole  is  passed. 

What  a sigh  of  relief  it  is  to  be  over  with  the 
nervous  strain.  What  if  a wheel  had  slipped  or  an 
axle  broken,  or  a stray  rock  had  fallen  upon  that 
ten  foot  trail  ? There  was  hardly  a chance  in  a 
million  for  a life  to  have  been  saved.  It  re- 
called the  dilemma  of  a negro  who  was  asked  his 
preference  of  travel,  by  rail  or  steamboat.  He 
unhesitatingly  chose  the  railroad  with  this  argu- 
ment : “ Ef  the  train  runs  off  the  track,  dar 

3^0  is.  Ef  the  steamboat  sinks,  whar  is  you  ? ” 
He  had  never  traveled  the  Lopilote  Canon  when 
he  made  the  remark,  or  he  would  have  chosen  to 
walk . 

Once  out  of  the  Sierra  Madre  Mountains,  we 
are  again  in  the  beautiful  Vale  of  Lerma.  ' The 
river  Lerma  is  the  longest  in  Mexico,  seven  hun- 
died  miles,  and  changes  its  name  to  Rio  Grande 
de  Santiago  before  it  empties  into  the  Pacific. 
We  cross  the  river  at  the  beautiful  city  of 
Acambaro,  in  the  state  of  Guanajuata,  where  a 
branch  road  leads  to  Morelos  and  Patzcuaro,  the 
beautiful  lake  region.  Here  is  a quaint  old 
arched  bridge,  built  in  1513.  Here  were  head- 
quarters for  the  Army  of  Independence,  under 
Hidalgo  in  18.10,  and  Gen.  Scott's  army  crossed 
this  bridge  on  the  march  to  the  city  of  Mexico. 
This  is  called  the  most  self-satisfying  city  in 
Mexico,  and  lies  hidden  among  the  trees  a half 
mile  from  the  station.  The  lover  of  the  quaint 
and  curious  should  by  all  means  see  this  old 
town  of  ten  thousand  inhabitants,  whose  only 
diversion  is  to  go  down  and  see  the  train  come 


84 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


in.  Its  quietness  is  oppressive,  and  the  town 
seems  to  be  under  a spell  like  the  enchanted  city- 
in  the  Arabian  Nights. 

The  fine  music  by  the  female  orchestra  is  one 
of  the  attractions.  In  the  foreground  is  the 
river  Lerma,  in  the  background  the  trees  ever 
green  and  the  mountains  ever  blue,  and  peeping 
up  here  and  there  the  towers  of  old  churches, 
which  altogether  make  an  enchanted  scene  worth 
your  journey  to  see. 

It  was  many  centuries  ago  that  the  Tarascan 
and  Otomite  Indians  built  this  town,  and  in 
1526  Don  Nicholas  Montanes  marched  his  Span- 
ish troops  through  the  quiet  town  and  laid  the 
foundation  of  the  Catholic  church  we  see  in  all 
its  glory  today.  The  hand  of  the  vandal  has 
not  yet  laid  hold  of  Acambaro  with  its  modern 
innovations  and  church  repairs  according  to 
fin  die  siecle  notions  of  architecture,  so  the  town 
really  looks  the  age  it  claims,  and  the  descen- 
dants of  these  same  Indians  live  in  the  identical 
houses  their  ancestors  built. 

In  the  Calle  de  Amargura  are  fourteen  little 
chapels  commemorating  the  stations  of  the  cross, 
ending  in  the  Soledad  on  the  hill.  The  church 
of  San  Francisco  and  the  deserted  convent  have 
their  especial  charms.  Acambaro  is  in  the  state 
of  Guanajuata  ( wan-a-water ),  but  in  the  See  of 
Michoacan.  While  sitting  in  the  beautiful 
plaza  whose  immense  trees  reach  to  the  eaves  of 
the  old  convent  towers,  you  see  a carriage  ap- 
proaching drawn  by  two  white  mules.  As  it 
draws  near  the  crowd,  a tall,  fine-looking  man 
in  long  black  robe  appears  and  holds  his  hands 
above  his  head.  Instanter,  every  person  in 
sight  of  that  carriage  falls  to  his  knees  or  upon 


In  the  Valley  of  the  Laja.  85 

his  face,  and  remains  until  the  hands  of  the 
mysterious  stranger  are  lowered.  It  is  the 
Bishop  of  Michoacan  on  the  way  to  his  palace 
in  Morelia,  and  he  stopped  to  bless  the  people. 
Slowly  and  reverently  the  worshipers  rise  from 
their  groveling  in  the  dust,  with  a radiance 
upon  their  dusky  faces  as  though  the  Son  of 
God  had  just  passed  by.  This  is  the  class  of 
people  that  keep  Mexico  living  back  in  the 
seventeenth  century. 

Still  down  the  Lerma  from  Acambaro  is  the 
Hacienda  de  Robles  extending  thirty-three  kilo- 
meters on  each  side  of  the  river,  and  which  fur- 
nishes hundreds  of  peons,  and  still  further  is  the 
city  of  Irapuata,  the  perpetual  home  of  the 
strawberry.  For  three  hundred  and  sixty-five 
days  in  the  year  no  train  has  ever  passed  Ira- 
puata without  strawberries  being  offered  for 
sale,  for  in  this  rich  valley  it  is  perpetual  seed- 
time and  harvest.  The  whole  year  is  spring- 
time, and  the  energies  of  all  the  people  are 
devoted. to  strawberries.  It  was  Sydney  Smith 
who  said:  “ Doubtless  God  Almighty  could  have 
made  a better  berry  than  the  strawberry,  but 
God  Almighty  has  never  done  so.”  The  fresas 
are  all  offered  in  a basket  holding  from  one  pint 
to  three  quarts,  and  are  arranged  with  great 
care,  so  that  the  large  ones  shall  all  be  on  top. 
If  you  know  your  business  you  do  not  buy  till 
the  train  is  pulling  out,  and  then  a silver  dime 
gets  fresas,  basket  and  all.  When  you  consider 
that  a Mexican  dime  is  worth  five  and  a half 
cents  in  Uncle  Sam’s  money,  you  can  figure  out 
the  cost  at  leisure.  The  basket  would  sell  at 
fifteen  cents  in  the  States,  and  the  bottom  does 
not  punch  up  to  the  middle  either.  When  I 


86 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


look  at  my  pile  of  empty  baskets,  I wonder  if  I 
cheated  the  little  pirates,  but  I get  my  balm  in 
knowing  that  hundreds  of  people  pay  them  the 
thirty  or  forty  cents  they  first  ask  for  them, 
which  will  enable  them  to  strike  a balance  sheet. 
I know  strawberries  are  perishable,  and  a 
twenty-five  cent  basket  today  will  not  be  worth 
a dime  by  the  next  train  time,  which  is  next 
day,  so  I offer  him  the  price  a day  in  advance, 
which  he  would  have  to  take  tomorrow.  He 
knows  that  I am  “ onto  his  curves,”  as  the  base- 
ball boys  say,  so  we  get  along  finely  and  always 
trade  as  the  train  begins  to  move  and  he  realizes 
that  it  is  now  or  never. 

From  the  river  and  from  wells  dug  in  the  val- 
ley irrigation  makes  this  unusual  fertility  pos- 
sible, and  the  old-time  well-sweep  is  everywhere, 
with  its  long  see-saw  pole  with  a weight  at  one 
end  and  a bucket  tied  to  the  other.  A ride  of  a 
mile  on  the  horse-car  is  worth  while.  You  will 
see  what  you  see  in  almost  every  Mexican 
town,  not  a shade  tree  on  the  streets,  and  the 
brown,  flat-roofed  adobe  houses  without  win- 
dows are  anything  but  inviting.  Of  course 
there  are  fine  churches,  what  town  has  not  its 
Carmen  and  Merced  and  San  Francisco  ? And 
of  course  its  plaza  and  band-stand,  and  Sun- 
days and  every  alternate  evening  in  the  week 
the  government  furnishes  its  citizens  with  music. 

Irapuato  is  an  important  junction  for  trains 
going  to  the  Pacific  Coast,  and  is  in  the  midst 
of  a fertile  valley  that  needs  no  Nile  to  enrich 
it,  no  augurs  to  propitiate  the  God  of  the  har- 
vest, no  winter,  no  summer,  this  is  Utopia. 

Leaving  Irapuato  and  Acambaro  behind,  we 
still  follow  the  Lerma  towards  its  source.  We 


in  the  Valley  of  the  Laja.  87 

pass  thousands  and  thousands  of  peons  with 
their  oxen  plowdng  with  a sharp  stick,  or  treading 
out  the  grain  on  the  harvest  floor  just  as  they  did 
in  Egypt  three  thousand  years  ago.  Fat  cattle 
and  water-fowl  and  farms  and  landscape  and 
shifting  panorama  give  us  an  uncanny  feeling 
that  the  thing  is  not  real,  that  such  a beautiful 
country  is  seen  only  in  pictures,  that  some  hal- 
lucination has  taken  hold  upon  us,  so  swdftly 
and  charmingly  do  they  change  in  their  beauty. 
Were  all  of  Mexico  like  the  Yale  of  Lerma,  it 
wrould  be  the  fairest  S|3ot  on  earth.  And  then 
comes  the  sickening  thought  that  the  whole 
seven  hundred  miles  of  this  paradise  is  in  the 
possession  of  twTo  or  three  dozen  land  owners 
that  nothing  on  earth  could  prevail  upon  to  sell 
to  the  small  farmer.  These  land  owners  live 
either  in  Paris  or  Madrid,  and  support  palaces 
in  the  old  world  from  blood  money  of  these  debt- 
ridden  Mexicans.  More  than  that,  they  have 
had  laws  enacted  to  restrain  their  descendants 
from  parting  with  the  land,  the  rightful  inheri- 
tance of  thejlndians  who  till  it  on  sufferance,  and 
are  thus  made  aliens  in  the  land  of  their  birth. 

In  the  distance  is  the  fountain  head  of  Rio 
Lerma,  and  now  we  see  the  snow  cap  of  the  Vol- 
can  de  Toluca,  and  at  its  base  the  beautiful  city 
of  Toluca,  the  capital  of  the  state  of  Mex- 
ico. Here  within  three  hours  of  the  city  of 
Mexico,  are  two  of  the  grandest  natural  wmnders 
on  earth,  the  precipice  of  Ocoyocac  and  El  Vol- 
can  de  Toluca.  This  city  of  twenty  thousand 
inhabitants  was  built  in  1583,  and  is  upon  the 
dividing  line  of  the  tropical  country  of  tierra 
caliente  and  the  mountainous  tierra  templada , 
so  absolutely  everything  you  have  ever  seen  grow- 


88 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


ing,  will  grow  here.  Its  altitude  is  sufficient  for 
wheat  which  grows  in  British  America,  and  the 
warm  winds  from  the  Pacific  make  an  eternal 
tropical  summer  for  everything  else.  The  build- 
ings in  the  city  are  superior  to  most  you  have 
seen.  The  market-house  with  its  pillars  painted 
in  Pompeiian  colors  is  the  finest  in  Mexico,  and 
was  once  an  exposition  building.  At  the  station 
vendors  will  offer  you  fruits  and  basket  at  such 
a price  you  wonder  if  they  were  stolen . Here 
too  is  a great  market  for  baskets  and  bird  cages, 
and  the  baskets  are  so  closely  woven  they  will 
hold  water. 

Here  is  the  Instituto  Liherario , the  Harvard 
College  of  Mexico.  Here  grows  the  coral  tree, 
whose  graceful  stem  is  six  or  seven  feet  high 
with  pendant  palm-shaped  foliage,  and  crowned 
with  vegetable  coral  of  the  deepest  red,  an  exact 
counterpart  of  the  Mediterranean  article.  Horse 
cars  lead  to  the  city  along  Calle  Independencia , 
where  stands  a statue  to  Hidalgo  et  Libertador , 
and  here  the  wealth  of  the  Republic  is  displayed 
in  its  public  buildings.  Around  the  plaza  is 
that  universal  arrangement  of  huge  arches 
called  portales  or  arcades,  which  enclose  the 
sidewalk  and  support  the  second  story.  The 
average  height  is  twelve  or  fifteen  feet,  and 
besides  being  a sidewalk,  it  is  also  used  for 
vendors’  booths.  Here  are  sold  lace  work  and 
drawn  work  and  feather  work  and  carved  work 
and  onyx  and  souvenirs  of  all  kinds. 

Here  is  shown  the  fine  residence  of  a rich 
haciendado  who  was  once  a great  patron  of  the 
bull-ring  and  furnished  many  a toro  bravo  for 
the  ring,  and  when  the  noble  animals  entered 
the  arena  with  his  colors  dangling  from  their 


In  the  Valley  ot  the  Laja. 


89 


necks,  the  very  walls  shook  with  the  loud  huzzas. 
Once  upon  a time  a famous  hull  fought  his  way 
hack  to  life.  The  lances  of  the  picadores  broke 
and  he  killed  all  the  horses.  The  banderilleros 
could  not  place  the  darts  so  he  could  not  shake 
them  from  his  shaggy  neck,  and  the  matadores 
lost  their  reputation  and  were  hissed  from  the 
ring,  because  they  could  not  place  the  sword. 
Here  the  old  haciendado  begged  the  president 
to  not  permit  him  to  be  lassoed  and  assassinated, 
but  to  give  him  his  freedom.  This  was  granted, 
and  many  years  afterward  when  he  died  his 
skin  was  stuffed  to  adorn  his  master’s  banquet 
hall. 

Behind  the  city  is  the  volcano,  which  can  be 
explored  in  two  days.  The  height  is  16, 156  feet 
and  the  top  is  no  more  than  ten  feet  wide,  and 
the  crater  contains  a fathomless  lake  with  a 
whirl-pool  in  the  center.  Standing  here  amid 
the  eternal  snows  the  earth  is  spread  before  you 
as  is  denied  in  any  other  part  of  the  world. 
Three  miles  up  in  the  air  you  stand  and  in  the 
west  you  see  the  Pacific  Ocean;  across  the  Sierra 
Madres  appear  the  snow-white  top  of  Volcan 
Popocatepetl  (smoking  mountain)  17,685  feet 
high;  Volcan Ixtaccihuatl  (white  woman)  15,71-1 
feet  high;  Citlatepetl (mount  of  the  star)  17,664 
feet  high;  Nauchampatapetl  (square  rock)  and 
Pirate’ s Chest,  peak  answering  peak,  and  still 
through  the  azure  vista  beyond  lie  the  blue 
waters  of  the  Mexican  Gulf.  Toluca  is  the 
fourth  highest  mountain  in  Mexico,  being  over- 
t-'-pped  by  Orizaba  and  the  two  named  above. 
It  is  from  these  eternal  reservoirs  that  the  cities 
get  their  supplies  of  ice,  and  any  day  the  Indians 
laden  with  their  chilly  burden  descend  among 


90  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

the  human  mozaics  to  furnish  the  American  bar- 
rooms with  their  sine  qua  non  at  ten  cents  a 
pound. 

Of  course  the  usual  churches  and  line  paintings 
must  be  seen,  so  we  visit  Tercer  Orden,  Carmen 
and  Tecajec.  And  now  we  prepare  to  sec  a sight 
that  has  not  a peer  on  the  globe.  Two  engines 
are  hitched  to  the  train  and  we  begin  to  climb 
the  Sierra  Madres.  We  stop  at  the  little  town 
of  Ocoyocac,  and  in  a half  hour  the  train  returns 
on  the  horse  shoe  curve  one  thousand  perpen- 
dicular feet  above  the  town.  Not  a bush  nor  a 
blade  of  grass  interrupts  the  vision  as  we 
nervously  look  down  one-fifth  of  a mile  upon  the 
toy-looking  houses  we  could  drop  a stone  upon. 
You  instinctively  hold  your  breath  as  we  creep 
around  this  narrow  trail  blasted  from  the  solid 
granite  and  marvel  at  the  engineering  that 
could  ever  dream  of  such  possibilities.  Far  be- 
yond over  the  plain  of  Toluca  is  a panorama 
that  will  abide  with  you  forever,  but  which  you 
can  never  describe.  We  soon  come  to  the  mills 
of  JaJalpa  and  pass  under  the  stone  aqueduct 
more  than  a hundred  feet  high  which  carries 
the  pure  mountain  water  to  the  thirsty  city  be- 
low. 

Every  city  near  a mountain  gets  its  water 
through  these  massive  stone  aqueducts  that  are 
built  to  last  a thousand  years.  Up,  up  we 
slowly  climb  with  our  two  locomotives  until  we 
reach  Salazar  and  take  a few  minutes  to  raise 
steam  for  the  final  climb.  At  last  we  stop  on 
the  back-bone  of  the  Sierras,  at  La  Cima,  (the 
summit)  twenty-four  miles  from  the  capital,  and 
11,000  feet  above  the  sea.  Here  in  the  Torrid 
Zone  among  the  clouds  the  frost  is  white  upon 


In  the  Valley  of  the  Laja.  91 

the  rails,  and  the  damp  fog  chills  you  to  the 
marrow.  There  behind  us  is  a rushing  mountain 
torrent,  the  source  of  the  river  Lerma,  just 
starting  on  its  seven  hundred  mile  journey  to 
the  Pacific . Here  just  in  front  of  the  locomotive 
is  a fretful  little  brook  that  breaks  into  a thou- 
sand cascades  in  its  journey  to  the  Mexican 
Gulf.  Forty  miles  to  the  south  is  a scene  that 
defies  description.  A hundred  miles  to  the 
south  stand  those  mighty  sentinels  of  the 
beautiful  Nahuatl  Valley,  Popocatapetl  and 
Ixtaccihuatl,  in  that  clear  atmosphere,  almost  in 
speaking  distance.  In  the  midst  of  the  valley 
lie  the  silver  lakes  of  Texcoco  and  Xochimilco, 
large  enough  to  mirror  those  lofty  sentinels  and 
reflect  their  perpetual  robes  of  white  to  the 
nymphs  and  naiads  in  the  azure  depths  below. 

Could  these  everlasting  hills  speak,  what  a 
tale  they  could  unfold  of  the  awful  tragedies 
they  have  witnessed  in  this  valley;  of  crimes 
and  bloodshed  and  migrations  and  banishments; 
of  nations  who  wrought  while  Phoenician  com- 
merce was  young;  of  cities  built  aud  crumbled  to 
dust;  of  opulence  and  power  and  intrigue  ! They 
might  tell  us  who  carved  the  Calendar  Stone,  and 
who  evolved  its  astronomical  knowledge,  and  who 
wrote  the  hieroglyphics  of  Tula,  and  in  what  lan- 
guage are  the  facade  and  tablet  inscriptions  of 
Palenque  and  Uxmal,  and,  before  the  Aztecs, 
whence  came  the  Toltecs,  and  Tlascalans,  and 
their  forerunners  the  Tezcucans,  who  in  turn 
were  driven  out  by  the  Acolhuas  in  the  inverse 
order  by  Tepanecs,  and  Chaleos,  and  Xochi- 
milcos,  and  who  built  the  seven  mysterious 
cities  of  Cibola,  and  the  pyramid  of  Bholula,  and 
the  mounds  and  the  pyramids  of  Tampico, 


92 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


and  Panuco  and  the  pyramids  to  the  sun  and 
moon  at  Teotiliuacan,  and  why  was  the  stately 
avenue  of  pillars  left  at  ancient  Mitla,  and  why, 
O Sphinx  of  the  Valley!  dost  thou  not  reveal  the 
secrets  of  the  dead  past  whose  unmulti plied 
aeons  are  to  thee  as  but  an  open  book?  But  the 
sphinx  answered  never  a word.  My  tears  and 
eloquence  turned  to  thin  air  in  the  morning  frost, 
and  after  waiting  a reasonable  time  for  an 
answer,  I thought  of  that  old  tale  about  Maho- 
met and  the  mountain,  and  that  decided  my 
course.  I determined  to  go  find  out  for  myself, 
and  as  the  engineer  had  dropped  one  engine 
behind  he  said  if  I was  going  with  him  I had 
better  get  a move  on  myself,  so  I set  forth  to 
solve  the  mysteries  that  have  baffled  the  world 
in  the  Valley  of  Mexico. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  VALE  OF  ANAHUAC. 
r ^ HE  time  is  four  hundred  years  ago ; the 


place,  the  present  site  of  the  City  of 


Mexico.  In  its  stead  was  Tenochtitlan. 
In  this  beautiful  valley  were  four  kingdoms, 
three  aristocratic  republics,  a number  of  minor 
states  and  the  independent  monarchy  of  Yuca- 
tan. Of  the  four  kingdoms  in  the  valley,  the 
Aztec  or  Mexican  was  chief,  and  dictated  terms 
to  the  other  "three — Colhuacan,  Tlascopan  and 
Michoacan.  The  three  republics  were  Tlaxcala, 
Cholula  and  Huexotzinco,  the  ancient  enemies 
of  the  Aztecs,  and  with  whose  combined  aid 
Cortez  finally  conquered  them. 

On  the  shores  of  Lake  Texcoco,  the  Athens  of 
Mexico,  stand  Cortez  and  his  band  of  pirates, 
gazing  across  the  blue  waters  of  the  lake 
towards  an  island  on  its  bosom,  twenty-five 
miles  away.  Upon  that  island  is  a city,  Tenoch- 
titlan, the  Rome  of  Mexico,  and  the  capital  of 
the  Aztecs,  which  the  Spaniards  called  “the 
most  beautiful  city  on  earth.” 

Upon  the  bosom  of  that  lake  float  thousands 
of  boats,  and  connecting  the  city  to  the  main- 
land are  two  mighty  causeways,  guarded  by 
drawbridges  and  portcullis.  According  to  Span- 
ish authority,  within  that  city  were  two  thous- 


93 


94  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

and  temples,  one  hundred  palaces  and  a thousand 
sumptuous  dwellings  and  hanging  gardens,  aque- 
ducts and  irrigating  canals,  sculpture  and 
architecture,  an  elaborate  system  of  religion 
and  philosophy,  a priesthood,  a written  language 
by  means  of  ideographic  paintings,  artistic 
jewelers  and  a hundred  other  elements  of  civili- 
zation that  have  since  been  swept  away  by  the 
bigoted  Spaniards  as  the  dewdrops  before  the 
sirocco. 

Within  the  great  plaza  there  arose  a mighty 
temple,  the  teocalli,  erected  to  the  war-god 
Huitziloptchli.  This  temple  was  a truncated 
pyramid,  whose  base  was  three  hundred  and 
eight  feet  each  way,  and  whose  height  was  one 
hundred  feet,  and  was  reached  by  a spiral  stair- 
way passing  four  times  around.  Five  thousand 
priests  officiated  in  this  temple,  and  on  its  sum- 
mit was  a block  of  jasper,  the  sacfificial  stone, 
which  is  now  in  the  national  museum.  Upon 
this  stone  were  sacrificed  daily,  human  victims 
taken  in  war,  and  offered  to  appease  the  war- 
god  who  had  made  them  successful  against  their 
enemies,  and  twenty  thousand  victims  a year  had 
their  hearts  cut  out  by  the  priests  and  laid 
smoking  on  this  altar. 

Each  morning  as  the  sun  rose  behind  Popo- 
catapetl,  the  huge  drum  of  serpent  skins  re- 
sounded, the  white-robed  priests  wfith  their  wild 
minstrelsy  wound  slowly  round  the  pyramid  in 
sight’  of  every  inhabitant  in  the  city,  and,  ar- 
riving at  the  top,  turned  their  faces  to  the 
rising  sun,  stretched  their  victims  across  the 
convex  surface  of  the  sacrificial  stone,  tore  the 
palpitating  hearts  from  the  writhing  bodies, 
and,  having  first  offered  them  to  the  sun,  laid 


The  Vale  of  Anahuac. 


95 


them  smoking  upon  the  altar  and  hurled  the 
bodies  down  the  sides  of  the  pyramid. 

Before  the  altar  in  the  sanctuary  stood  the 
colossal  image  of  Huitziloptchli,  or  Mexitle  the 
“left-handed  warrior, ’’the  tutelary  deity  and  war- 
god  of  the  Aztecs.  In  his  right  hand  he  wielded 
a bow,  and  in  his  left  a bunch  of  golden  arrows 
to  denote  their  victories.  Around  his  waist 
were  the  huge  folds  of  a serpent,  consisting  of 
pearls  and  precious  stones,  and  the  same  orna- 
ments were  sprinkled  all  over  his  body.  Upon 
the  left  foot  were  the  feathers  of  a hum- 
ming bird  whose  name  the  dread  deity  bore. 
Around  his  neck  was  suspended  a chain  of  alter- 
nate gold  and  silver  hearts,  to  denote  the 
sacrifice  in  which  he  most  delighted. 

The  invisible  God , the  Cause  of  Causes,  was 
represented  by  no  image  and  was  confined  by  no 
temple.  The  adjoining  sanctuary  was  dedicated 
to  a milder  deity  who  stood  next  to  God.  This 
was  Tezcatlipoca,  the  creator  of  the  world.  His 
image  was  represented  by  a young  man,  richly 
garnished  with  gold  ornaments  and  holding  a 
shield,  burnished  like  a mirror,  and  in  it  he  saw 
reflected  the  doings  of  the  world.  In  a golden 
platter  he  received  the  bleeding  hearts  of  the 
sacrifice  as  his  offering.  Before  these  altars 
burn  perpetual  fires,  attended  by  Vestal  Virgins 
who  took  their  training  in  the  temple,  and 
W'hose  heads  were  the  price  of  unchastity.  At 
the  birth  of  a female  child,  its  parents  dedicated 
it  to  the  service  of  some  divinity,  and  Tepant- 
lohuatzin,  the  superior  general  of  that  district, 
took  charge  of  her  education.  Two  months 
after  birth  she  was  taken  to  the  temple,  and  a 
passion  flower,  a small  censer  and  a little  in- 


96 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


cense  were  placed  in  her  hand  as  a symbol  of 
her  future  occupation.  At  five  years  of  age  she 
was  placed  in  the  seminary  to  learn  the  intri- 
cacies of  the  religion,  and  those  who  took  the 
vow  had  to  sacrifice  their  hair. 

Boys  dedicated  to  the  priesthood  were  conse- 
crated to  Quetzalcoatl,  god  cf  the  air.  At  two 
years  of  age,  the  superior  made  an  incision  in 
the  breast,  which  was  a sign  of  consecration.  If 
a priest  was  guilt}r  of  unchastity,  he  was  beaten 
to  death,  and  his  limbs  were  cut  off  and  pre- 
sented to  his  successor  as  a warning. 

Thirty  miles  from  the  city  was  Teotihuacan, 
the  hill  of  the  gods,  where  stand  the  pyramid  to 
Tonateuh  the  sun,  and  one  to  Meztle,  the  moon. 
Here  kings  and  priests  were  elected,  ordained 
and  buried,  and  hither  flocked  pilgrims  from 
every  direction  to  consult  the  oracles,  to  worship 
in  the  temples  of  the  sun  and  moon,  and  to  place 
sacrificial  offerings  on  the  altars  of  their  deities. 

The  priests  were  separated  by  several  hier- 
archical degrees.  The  first  of  the  supreme  pon- 
tiffs bore  the  title  of  Teoteucli  “ Divine  Lord,” 
and  the  next  was  Hueiteopixqui  “High  Priest,” 
and  was  conferred  upon  those  only  of  illustrious 
birth.  These  high  priests  were  oracles,  and  war 
was  never  undertaken  without  consulting  them. 
Then  came  the  superior-general  of  the  seminary, 
the  steward  of  the  sanctuary,  the  hymn-laureate 
of  the  feast,  saerificers,  diviners  and  chanters. 

Four  times  a day  were  the  priests  required  to 
incense  the  altars,  and  burn  incense  to  the  sun 
four  times  a day  and  five  times  at  night.  The 
perfumes  were  liquid  styrax,  ( Liquidambar 
styracijlua),  and  copal  resin  ( rhus  copallina) . 
The  custom  of  human  sacrifice,  however,  was 


The  Vale  of  Anahuac. 


97 


not  always  a trait  of  the  Aztec.  According  to 
the  picture-writing  of  the  Aztecs,  the  race  began 
its  existence  somewhere  in  the  misty  past,  but 
when  and  where  the  deponent  sayeth  not.  It 
was  in  648  A.D.,  that  seven  of  the  Nahuatl 
tribes  left  their  fatherland,  and  the  other  six 
tribes  covered  the  valley  with  kingdoms,  while 
the  Aztecs  in  the  year  1160,  came,  in  their  wander- 
ings, to  the  shores  of  the  lakes,  and  stopped  at 
different  places,  cultivating  the  soil  and  build- 
ing reed  huts,  but  having  no  place  to  perma- 
nently locate  their  city.  In  1216  they  reached 
Tzompango,  (place  of  bones)  which  city  they 
afterwards  gave  the  name  of  Mexicatl,  their 
war-god,  and  changed  their  own  name  from 
Aztecs  to  Mexicatl s. 

Xolotl,  king  of  the  Chiciinecs,  seeing  he  had 
nothing  to  fear  from  them,  permitted  them  to 
sojourn  in  his  territory.  Nob  long  afterwaids 
an  Aztec  priest  carried  off  a daughter  of  a Chi- 
cimec  general,  and  they  were  compelled  to  leave 
the  country.  They  fled  to  the  land  of  the 
Colhuas,  where  now  stands  the  castle  of  Cha- 
pultepec.  A few  years  afterwards  the  Colhuas 
demanded  tribute,  and,  being  unable  to  pay,  the 
Colhuas  reduced  them  to  abject  slavery.  The 
Colhuas  were  soon  afterwards  conquered  by  the 
Xochimilcos,  and  in  desperation  called  upon 
their  Aztec  slaves  for  assistance.  Animated 
'with  the  hope  of  their  own  freedom,  the  Aztecs 
completely  conquered  the  Xochimilcos,  and  cele- 
brated their  victory  with  human  sacrifice.  The 
Colhuas,  alarmed  at  the  prowess  and  future  pos- 
sibilities of  their  slaves,  gave  them  their  liberty, 
and  bade  them  depart  from  the  country.  Happy 
to  regain  their  liberty,  they  once  more  set  out 


98 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


and  settled  near  the  lakes,  Tezcoco,  Xochimilco, 
Chaleo,  and  Xaltocan,  from  which  they  were 
never  to  depart. 

Tenoch,  their  chief,  saw  a cactus  growing 
upon  a rock  in  an  island,  and  on  the  cactus  an 
eagle  perched,  and  holding  in  his  talons  a ser- 
pent. Thinking  this  a propitious  sign  they 
immediately  founded  a city  (1325)  and  called 
it  Tenochtitlan,  “stone  and  cactus,”  and  to 
this  day  the  emblem  and  coat  of  arms  of  Mexico 
is  the  eagle  on  a cactus  and  holding  a serpent 
in  his  talons.  Here  they  erected  a temple  to 
their  war  god  and  went  out  in  search  of  a vic- 
tim to  sacrifice  to  offer  upon  the  altar.  The 
only  animal  found  was  a Colhuan  Indian,  and, 
recognizing  in  him  only  one  of  their  old 
oppressors,  they  tore  out  his  heart  and  offered 
it  upon  the  altar.  This  led  to  a war  of  retal- 
iation and  expiation  which  for  two  hundred 
years  stained  the  new  capital  with  blood. 

Shut  in  upon  the  island,  and  cut  off  from  the 
mainland  by  their  enemies,  the  Aztecs,  having 
no  land  to  cultivate,  no  textures  to  make  elothing, 
went  naked  and  ate  fish  and  aquatic  plants. 
In  their  extremity  they  made  rafts  and  floored 
them  with  reeds,  and  dug  up  the  mud  from  the 
lake  and  spread  it  upon  the  reeds  and  began  the 
cultivation  of  flowers  and  the  necessities  of  life 
upon  these  chinampas  or  floating  gardens,  which 
are  to  be  seen  to  this  day.  Towed  by  his  canoe, 
the  Aztec  gardener  could  move  his  farm  when- 
ever a quarrelsome  neighbor  made  life  a burden. 

That  was  six  hundred  years  ago,  when  the 
Mexican  nation  was  small,  but  they  soon  outgrew 
the  confines  of  the  island,  and,  driven  to  desper- 
ation, resolved  to  conquer  the  mainland. 


The  Vale  of  Anahuac.  99 

In  1357  there  were  thirty  powerful  cities  in  the 
valley,  united  by  a sort  of  feudal  bond,  each 
striving  to  get  the  mastery,  which  was  finally 
gained  by  the  Colhuas.  The  Mexicans  now 
elected  a warrior  king,  Huitzilihuitl  “feather  of 
the  humming  bird,”  who  was  unmarried.  Being 
a politician,  he  went  to  Azcapozalco,  (now  a 
suburb  of  the  capital)  the  capital  of  the  Tepa- 
necs,  and  asked  the  king  of  the  Tepanecs  for 
his  daughter  in  marriage,  and  the  formation  of 
an  offensive  and  defensive  alliance.  This  the 
Tepanec  king  was  glad  to  do,  as  he  knew  the 
fighting  quality  of  the  Mexican.  No  sooner 
was  this  accomplished  than  the  Mexican  king 
went  to  the  principal  chiefs  in  the  valley  and 
married  into  all  their  families,  and  the  Aztec 
supremacy  had  its  birth. 

Released  from  the  islands,  the  Mexicans 
secured  cotton  cloth  for  their  naked  bodies,  and 
carried  on  a rapid  commerce.  In  1427,  the 
Mexicans  won  a naval  battle  over  their  enemies 
on  lake  Chaleo,  and  built  the  great  causeway 
across  the  lake  as  a military  road  to  Tlacotalpam 
which  exists  today.  Then  they  resolved  to 
conquer  the  city  of  Azcapozalco,  the  capital  of 
the  Tepanecs,  and  to  do  so  allied  them- 
selves with  the  Acolhuas  in  1428,  and  in  a battle 
which  lasted  two  days  the  Mexicans  completely 
subjugated  the  Tepanecs,  and  made  them  allies, 
subject  to  the  order  of  their  masters. 

Itzacoatl  “The  Great  ” was  king  and  died  in 
1440,  having  served  his  country  thirty  years  as 
a general  and  thirteen  as  king.  His  nephew 
Montezuma  I.  succeeded  him.  In  1449  the  city 
was  swept  by  a flood,  and  he  built  an  immense 
dike  nine  miles  long  to  protect  the  city  from  the 


100 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


lake.  This  dike  at  the  present  day  is  called 
Albarredo  Vieja.  He  also  had  his  portrait 
sculptured  on  the  rocks  at  Chapultepec.  Monte- 
zuma I.  was  the  ablest  of  the  Aztec  kings  and 
built  and  fortified  the  outposts  of  the  city  and 
died  in  14G9  after  a reign  of  twenty  years. 

It  had  become  a custom  for  each  king  to  prove 
his  right  to  be  king  by  conquering  his  enemies 
and  bringing  the  prisoners  home  to  be  sacrificed 
at  his  coronation.  This  was  to  make  and  keep 
the  young  men  as  warriors.  Axayacatl  was 
the  sixth  king  and  he  immediately  set  out 
against  the  kingdom  of  Tehuantepec  to  capture 
prisoners  for  his  coronation  sacrifice.  lie 
added  their  territory  to  his  own  and  returned 
home  laden  with  spoil,  and  had  his  portrait 
sculptured  on  the  rock  of  Chapultepec  by  the 
side  of  Montezuma  I.  He  died  in  1481  and  his 
son  Tizoe  succeeded.  In  his  short  reign  of  five 
years,  he  conquered  fourteen  cities  and  built 
more  temples  in  the  capital.  Ahuitzotl  was  his 
successor,  and  immediately  began  work  on  the 
great  temple  begun  in  previous  years.  He  began 
war  to  get  victims  for  his  coronation,  which  he 
postponed  till  the  temple  should  be  completed, 
which  was  four  years.  When  the  dedication 
day  arrived,  festivities  lasted  four  days,  and 
fifteen  thousand  prisoners  were  sacrificed  upon 
the  altar  of  the  war  god.  This  king  extended 
the  Mexican  empire  to  its  present  limits  and 
died  in  1502.  He  was  liberal,  and  when  he  re- 
ceived tribute  from  his  vassal  states,  he  called  the 
people  together  and  distributed  it  among  them. 
To  his  soldiers  he  gave  bars  of  gold  and  silver, 
and  precious  stones. 

His  successor  was  Montezuma  II.  vrhom  Cortez 


The  Vale  of  Anahuac.  101 

so  foully  murdered  in  later  years.  Montezuma 
was  an  oriental  despot,  and  he  made  his  capital 
the  fairest  city  in  the  new  world.  His  prede- 
cessors had  guaranteed  the  integrity  of  their 
island  city  by  every  means  in  their  power.  The 
temple  occupied  the  great  place  now  covered  by 
the  Cathedral  and  Plaza  Mayor.  It  was  sur- 
rounded by  a wall  of  stone  and  lime,  ornamented 
by  figures  of  serpents  raised  in  relief  which  had 
the  name  of  cotepantla , wall  of  serpents.  This 
quadrangled  wall  was  pierced  with  huge  battle- 
mented  gateways,  opening  upon  the  four 
principal  streets  of  the  city.  Over  these  gates 
were  arsenals,  and  within  the  walls  were  barracks 
of  thousands  of  soldiers. 

Throughout  the  city  were  canals  by  the  side 
of  the  streets  in  this  new  world  Venice,  so  that 
canoes  from  their  trading  excursions  could  tra- 
verse any  part  of  the  city.  Great  military 
causeways  led  to  the  mainland  across  the  lakes, 
and  were  guarded  by  drawbridges,  to  shut  the 
enemy  out  or  shut  themselves  in.  The  city  could 
not  be  entered  by  any  other  way  than  these 
.causeways.  The  southern  one  was  called  Izta- 
palapan  and  was  seven  miles  long.  The  northern 
one  was  Tepejecac,  three  miles  long,  which  now 
leads  to  Guadalupe.  The  other  two  were 
Tlacopam  and  Chapultepec  and  were  each  two 
miles  long,  They  were  broad  enough  to  allow 
ten  men  abreast  on  horseback,  and  are  all  in 
use  today.  The  city  was  nine  miles  in  circum- 
ference and  was  guarded  at  every  point. 

No  sooner  was  Montezuma  elected,  than  he 
waged  war  upon  the  Otomites  to  get  victims  for 
his  inaugural,  and  returned  with  five  thousand 
prisoners  which  were  promptly  slaughtered 


102 


Lund  Without  Chimneys. 


to  the  war-gocl,  and  then  he  became  a very 
tyrant.  He  immediately  dismissed  all  ordinary 
servants,  and  compelled  six  hundred  princes  of 
the  royal  blood  in  his  conquered  provinces  to  be 
his  servants,  and  they  had  to  approach  him  bare- 
footed and  in  common  apparel.  On  the  streets 
his  subjects  must  close  their  eyes  when  he  passed 
and  r.ot  look  upon  his  dazzling  greatness.  He 
drank  from  gold  vessels  and  no  vessel  was  ever 
used  the  second  time.  Swift  runners  by  relays, 
brought  him  fresh  fish  and  fruits  each  day  from 
the  gulf,  a distance  of  two  hundred  miles.  A 
thousand  women  were  in  his  harem,  and  when 
a favorite  prince  deserved  a favor,  he  made  him 
a present  of  one  of  his  houris. 

Menageries  and  aviaries,  representing  all  the 
birds  and  animals  of  his  kingdom  from  New 
Mexico  to  Guatemala,  were  provided  for,  and  fed 
daily  with  the  food  each  was  accustomed  to.  In 
the  midst  of  his  extravagances,  Cortez  appeared 
on  the  other  side  of  the  lake  with  a hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  Indian  allies  of  the  valley, 
who  were  only  too  anxious  to  see  their  ancient 
enemy  humbled. 

Montezuma  was  the  only  Aztec  king  who  was 
no  soldier.  He  allowed  the  crafty  Spaniards  to 
fill  his  capital,  and  to  buy  their  departure,  filled 
their  room  to  the  ceiling  with  gold  and  silver, 
which  only  whetted  the  appetites  of  the  treas- 
ure-seekers and  they  asked  for  more.  Monte- 
zuma was  treacherously  imprisoned  and  was 
afterwards  murdered  by  Cortez,  then  the  Mexi- 
cans rose  in  their  might  on  that  terrible  July 
night  in  1520  and  drove  them  from  the  city,  and 
Guatemotzin  was  made  king.  He  was  a soldier 
from  the  old  stock,  and  had  he  been  king  at 


The  Vale  of  Anahuac. 


103 


first,  the  Spaniards  would  never  have  set  foot  in 
Tenochtitlan.  He  immediately  put  the  city  in 
defense  for  the  return  of  the  Spaniards.  Mean- 
while Cortez  built  a fleet  of  boats  for  tha  lake 
and  got  men  and  cannon  from  Cuba,  and  spent 
a year  in  organizing  the  disaffected  Indians  in 
the  valley  against  their  ancient  enemy. 

The  next  year,  in  May  1521,  he  appeared 
again  with  Indians  from  every  nation  in  the 
valley,  according  to  the  exaggerated  Spanish 
authority,  five  hundred  and  twenty  thousand 
men,  and  laid  siege  to  the  city  by  land  and  by 
water,  for  three  months,  and  then  occurred  a 
scene  that  has  never  been  exceeded  in  history 
for  bravery. 

The  Mexicans  were  born  warriors  to  a man. 
The  besieging  army  was  armed  with  cannon  and 
muskets  and  swoid  and  horse,  and  .was  clad  in 
steel  coats  of  mail,  yet  for  three  months  there 
were  daily  hand-to-hand  combats,  where  Mexi- 
cans fought  with  short  obsidian  knives 
against  the  blades  of  Toledo.  The  great  city, 
nine  miles  in  circumference,  was  filled  with  people 
to  the  brim,  their  food  supply  cut  off,  the  aque- 
duct which  brought  them  fresh  water  from 
Chapultepec  across  the  lake,  destroyed; 
forced  to  drink  the  brackish  salt  water  from  the 
lake,  and  to  eat  the  bark  and  roots  from  trees, 
yet  they  asked  no  quarter.  Mothers  would  sit 
and  see  their  starved  children  die  at  their 
breasts,  and  then  ravenously  devour  their  dead 
bodies.  Men  wounded  unto  death,  would  still 
hurl  defiance  at  the  invaders  when  too  weak  to 
hurl  their  weapons. 

Cortez  had  succeeded  so  well  in  his  blockade 
that  all  the  timorous  nations  in  the  valley,  like 


104 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


wolves  around  a wounded  bison,  severed  their 
allegiance  to  the  Aztec  king  and  flocked  to  the 
Spaniards,  till  he  had,  by  his  own  figures,  nearty 
half  a million  men  around  the  doomed  city.  He 
sent  embassadors  to  Guatemotzin  to  surrender, 
as  resistance  was  hopeless.  Guatemotzin  ordered 
the  messengers  to  be  sacrificed.  Then  Cortez 
ordered  his  men  to  tear  the  city  down  as  they 
went,  as  every  house  contained  Mexican  war- 
riors. For  days  they  fought  and  destroyed. 
The  Mexicans  resisted  every  inch  of  the  ground, 
and  when  a Spaniard  was  captured,  would  take 
him  to  the  temple  and  sacrifice  him  in  full  view 
of  the  Spanish  army.  The  city  was  reeking 
with  the  unburied  dead,  and  the  Mexicans  were 
eating  the  flesh  of  their  comrades,  but  they 
asked  no  quarter.  Cortez  hated  to  destroy  so 
beautiful  a city,  and  after  twelve  days  of  fight- 
ing and  seven-eighths  of  the  houses  had  been  de- 
stroyed and  the  canals  filled  with  the  rubbish, 
lie  sent  another  commission  to  treat  with  Guate- 
motzin. ‘ ‘ Tell  Malinche  the  Aztecs  are  men  and 
not  children,  ” was  his  answer.  Thus  angered, 
Cortez  turned  his  savage  Indian  allies  upon  the 
starving  emaciated  Mexicans,  and  butchered 
forty  thousand  more  that  night  before  they 
stopped  to  rest,  and  then  waited  till  morning 
and  sent  another  embassy  to  the  proud  king. 
“Tell  Malinche  I am  prepared  to  die  where  I 
am,”  was  all  his  answer;  and  the  stench  and 
steam  from  the  putrifying  bodies  was  terrible, 
but  no  man,  woman  or  child  begged  for  mercy, 
so  Cortez  ordered  the  destruction  of  the  rest  of 
the  city.  All  day  long  they  tore  down  walls 
upon  weak  and  dead  and  dying  Mexicans,  but 
met  defiance  from  everyone  like  a wounded  tiger, 


The  Vale  of  Anahuac. 


105 


tracked  to  his  lair  by  the  trailing  huntsman. 
To  the  Indian  allies  they  would  say:  “Aye, 
destroy,  but  the  more  you  tear  down  the  more 
you  will  have  to  build  up.  If  we  conquer,  we 
will  make  you  rebuild;  if  the  white  man  conquer, 
he  will  make  you  rebuild;”  and  still  the  destruc- 
tion went  on. 

The  Mexicans  had  stripped  the  bark  from  all 
the  trees  and  had  dug  up  the  the  roots  and  eaten 
them,  and  were  still  eating  their  dead  compan- 
ions and  drinking  salt  water,  but  not  one  asked 
for  quarter  or  begged  for  mercy.  All  the  houses 
had  been  destroyed  but  a small  cluster  which 
were  still  filled  by  dying  Mexicans.  The  Span- 
iards and  Indians  were  wading  in  mire  caused 
by  the  pools  of  blood,  and  closed  upon  the  last 
remaining  Mexicans . Thirteen  days  of  slaughter 
and  starvation  had  reduced  them  to  skeletons, 
but  they  hurled  stones  with  their  weak  arms  at 
their  enemies.  As  their  enemies  closed  upon 
them,  many  plunged  into  the  canal  to  commit 
suicide.  Twenty  Spaniards  closed  around  Guate- 
'motzin  and  the  brave  king  with  buckler  and 
sword  stood  to  receive  them  all.  His  subjects 
begged  the  conquerors  to  spare  his  life.  His  only 
remark  was  that  he  hoped  they  would  spare  his 
wife  and  • child.  When  he  was  taken  before 
Cortez,  he  proudly  walked  up  to  him  and  said: 
“Malinche,  I have  done  all  a brave  man  can  do, 
now  do  what  you  will.”  Then  touching  a knife 
in  the  belt  of  Cortez,  he  said:  “You  had  better 
use  that  on  me.”  Cortez  afterwards  tortured 
him  to  make  him  disclose  his  wealth  and  then 
murdered  him. 

Of  all  that  mighty  host,  not  one  had  proved  a 
traitor  or  begged  for  mercy,  or  acted  a coward. 


106  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

They  had  lived  by  the  sword  and  died  by  it 
without  a murmur.  Probably  thirty  thousand 
were  left  alive  on  that  last  day,  too  weak  to 
fight,  and  not  quite  dead  from  hunger,  and  that 
was  all  that  was  left  of  the  great  Mexican  Em- 
pire. Of  the  beautiful  dream  city,  not  one  stone 
was  left  above  another  and  today  ,only  the  four 
causeways  are  left  in  the  city  of  Mexico  that 
was  a part  of  Tenochtitlan. 

“ Here  didst  thou  fall,  and  here  thy  hunters  stand 
Signed  in  thy  spoil,  and  crimsoned  in  thy  lethe.” 

The  siege  of  the  city  of  Tenochtitlan  lasted 
seventy  five  days. 


CHURCH  OF  SAN  AUGUSTIN 


; CHAPTER  VII.  75 


THE  VALLEY  OF  MEXICO. 


WHERE  stood  the  ancient  pyramid 
and  temple  to  the  war-god  in  Tenoch- 
titlan,  today  stands  the  great 
Cathedral  facing  the  Plaza  Mayor  in  the  City  of 
Mexico.  Where  stood  Montezuma’s  palace  is  now 
the  National  Palace;  where  was  Montezuma’s 
treasure-house  are  now  the  Post-office  and  Na- 
tional Museum,  with  Montezuma’s  shield,  the 
sacrificial  stone  from  the  ancient  temple,  and  a 
thousand  gods  and  idois  inscribed  in  the  ancient 
Aztec  and  Toltec  languages.  Chapultepec, 
which  was  used  as  Montezuma’s  summer-house, 
is  still  used  as  the  “White  House  ” of  Mexico. 
Montezuma’s  favorite  cypress  tree,  which  meas- 
ures fifty  feet  in  circumference,  is  as  green  to- 
day as  any  tree  in  the  beautiful  park  of  Cha- 
pultepec, and  nowhere  outside  the  pages  of  the 
Arabian  Nights  is  there  such  an  enchanting, 
living  story  as  can  be  seen  every  day  in  the  City 
of  Mexico. 

Unless  you  touched  with  your  own  hand,  and 
saw  with  your  own  eyes,  the  very  elements  of 
this  strange,  fascinating  history,  you  might 
doubt  your  reason  and  pronounce  the  whole 
story  a figment  of  the  imagination ; but  here  is 
history  personified. 


107 


108  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

Let  us  begin  with  the  great  Cathedral,  the 
center-piece  of  Mexico  and  its  past.  Here  on 
this  spot  stood  the  ancient  temple  on  the  top  of 
the  lofty  pyramid,  down  whose  bloody  sides 
flowed  the  blood  of  a hundred  and  thirty 
thousand  human  sacrifices,  and  not  two  hundred 
yards  from  here,  in  the  museum,  you  can  put 
your  hand  upon  the  sacrificial  stone  that  bore 
witness  to  every  one.  Here  in  front  of  this  idol, 
an  altar  received  the  reeking  hearts,  torn  with 
obsidian  knives  from  the  breasts  of  that  dead 
army,  and  there  at  your  back  stand  both  the 
hideous  god  that  exacted  this  sacrifice,  and  the 
blood-stained  porphyritic  altar  itself. 

Here  is  no  room  for  doubt.  The  museum,  or 
those  in  other  lands,  contain  all  that  history 
has  told  us  of,  and  they  were  dug  from  the  ruins 
when  the  foundation  of  the  cathedral  was  laid. 
The  first  church  on  the  site  of  the  pyramid  was 
completed  in  1528,  but  the  present  cathedral 
was  not  completed  till  1573.  The  roof  was  put 
on  in  1623,  three  years  after  the  first  mass  was 
said,  and  it  was  forty-five  years  afterwards 
before  it  was  dedicated.  The  towers  were  com- 
pleted at  a cost  of  $200,000  in  1791,  two  hundred 
and  eighteen  years  after  the  foundations  were 
laid.  With  the  cheap  and  gratuitous  labor  with 
which  it  was  built,  its  actual  cost  will  never  be 
known,  but  was  in  the  millions.  The  length  is  387 
feet;  width,  177  feet,  and  height  179  feet.  The 
towers  are  203^  feet,  and  built  of  cut  stone,  and 
the  roof  of  brick  tiles.  Humboldt  said  that  the 
view  from  the  towers  is  the  finest  in  the  world. 
The  group  of  forty  or  fifty  bells  in  the  towers 
are  the  finest  in  this  country,  but  they  are  not 
set  in  chimes.  The  largest  is  the  Santa  Maria 


The  Valley  of  Mexico . 


109 


de  Guadalupe,  nineteen  feet  high  and  cost 
$10,000.  It  is  next  to  the  big  Russian  bell  in 
the  Kremlin.  The  second  in  size  is  the  Dona  _ 
Maria  in  the  eastern  tower.  When  these  bells 
strike  the  hour  of  noon,  every  head  in  the  street 
is  bared.  The  interior  of  the  cathedral  is  in  the 
shape  of  a Latin  cross.  Ninety  quadruple  pil- 
lars, each  thirty-five  feet  in  circumference  sup- 
port the  roof. 

The  vaulted  roof  with  its  rich  decorations, 
massive  altars  of  intricate  carvings,  the  choir 
and  organ,  are  grand  beyond  description.  There 
are  seven  chapels  on  each  side,  separated  by 
carved  railings  and  gratings.  The  choir  and 
main  altar  are  enclosed  by  a massive  railing  of 
gold,  silver  and  copper,  valued  at  one  million 
dollars.  There  are  five  naves  and  six  altars; 
the  altar  of  Los  Reyes  (the  Kings)  is  the  finest. 
Beneath  it  are  the  heads  of  Hidalgo,  Allende, 
Jiminez  and  Aldama,  brought  here  with  great 
pomp  and  ceremony  after  the  war  of  Inde- 
pendence had  been  fought  and  won.  In  the 
chapel  of  San  Felipe  de  Jesus  are  the  remains  of 
Augustin  Yturbide,  El  Lihertador , the  first 
Emperor  of  Mexico.  The  Chapel  of  San  Pedro 
contains  the  remains  of  the  first  Archbishop  of 
Mexico,  Fray  Juan  de  Zumarraga,  and  one  of 
the  characters  of  early  Mexican  history,  Gregorio 
Lopez,  the  reputed  son  of  Philip  II.  of  Spain. 

A number  of  fine  paintings  hang  upon  the 
wall,  a genuine  Murillo  and  a Michael  Angelo. 
Those  in  the  dome  represent  the  Assumption  of 
the  Virgin.  Over  the  stalls  is  the  Immaculate 
Conception,  by  Juan  Carreo.  Near  the  choir 
and  Altar  of  Pardon  are  two  paintings  by  La 
Sumaya,  the  only  examples  by  a woman.  In 


110 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


La  Capilla  de  las  Reliquias  are  twelve  pictures 
of  the  Holy  Martyrs  by  Herrera.  The  Sacristy 
walls  are  covered  by  the  great  pictures  of  The 
Entry  into  Jerusalem,  The  Glory  of  St.  Michael, 
The  Immaculate  Conception,  The  Assumption, 
The  Triumph  of  the  Sacrament  and  The  Catholic 
Church,  b}^  Christobal  de  Yillolpando  and  Juan 
Carreo.  In  another  room  may  be  found  The  Last 
Supper  and  The  Triumph  of  Faith,  by  Jose  Alci- 
bar,  and  the  portraits  of  all  the  Archbishops.  In 
the  Chapter  Room  are  three  of  the  best,  John  of 
Austria  imploring  the  Virgin  at  Lepanto,  and  a 
Virgin,  by  Cortona,  and  the  Virgin  of  Bethle- 
hem, by  Murillo.  There  are  other  paintings 
whose  number  is  legion,  and  would  require  a 
book  to  describe  them  all. 

The  High  Altar  was  once  the  richest  in  the 
world,  but  has  been  many  times  plundered  in 
the  many  revolutions,  yet  still  holds  much  of 
its  former  magnificence.  The  solid  gold  candle- 
stick, heavier  than  one  man  could  lift,  the  statue 
of  the  Assumption  made  of  solid  gold  and  inlaid 
with  rubies,  diamonds  and  precious  stones  worth 
a million  dollars,  and  many  other  costly  things 
have  been  plundered,  and  still  it  is  doubtless 
decorated  more  costly  than  any  other  church  in 
America.  It  wTas  from  the  tower  of  the  pyramid 
in  the  same  place  that  Montezuma  pointed  out 
to  Cortez  the  beauties  of  the  city  and  valley. 

The  group  of  churches  about  the  Cathedral, 
but  not  a part  of  it,  is  interesting.  La  Capilla 
de  las  Animas  (the  Chapel  of  Souls)  wThere 
masses  are  said  for  the  souls  in  Purgatory,  is  in 
the  rear.  El  Segario  Metripolitano  is  in  the 
east  and  was  the  first  parish  church  in 
Mexico.  Its  foundations  w^ere  laid  in  1521,  and 


The  Valley  of  Mexico . 


Ill 


it  is  now  one  of  the  most  beautiful  churches  in 
Mexico.  Its  rich  facades  and  decorations  are 
superb.  La  Capilla  de  La  Soledad  is  between 
this  and  the  cathedral  and  near  by  is  the  parish 
church  of  San  Pablo. 

Four  squares  north  is  Santa  Domingo,  the 
house  of  the  Spanish  Inquisition,  now  used  as  a 
medical  college.  Near  the  south  end  of  the 
same  plaza  is  a fountain  marking  the  spot  where 
the  eagle  came  down  in  1325,  and  picked  up  the 
snake  and  lighted  on  the  cactus  as  is  now  seen 
in  Mexico’s  coat  of  arms.  One  square  west  of 
the  Alameda  is  the  church  of  San  Hipolito  of  the 
Martyrs,  built  on  the  spot  where  so  many 
Spaniards  were  slaughtered  in  the  retreat  on 
the  night  of  noche  triste , (dismal  night)  July  1, 
1520. 

In  a corner  of  a wall  at  the  juncture  of  a lit- 
tle side  street  is  a curious  tablet,  showing  in 
relief  an  eagle  carrying  an  Indian  in  its  talons. 
The  inscription  in  the  medallion  above  asserts  : 
“ So  great  was  the  slaughter  of  the  Spaniards 
at  this  point  by  the  Aztecs,  July  1,  1520,  called 
for  this  reason  Noche  Triste , that  having  in  the 
following  year  triumphantly  re-entered  the  city, 
the  victors  resolved  to  build  a chapel  here,  dedi- 
cated to  San  Hipolito,  because  the  capture  of 
the  city  occurred  on  that  Saint’s  day.” 

The  City  of  Mexico  has  375,000  inhabitants 
and  hundreds  of  churches  worth  a king’s  ransom, 
and  they  are  still  being  enriched,  and  by  whom? 
The  paupers ! The  more  ignorant  a person  is, 
the  more  gullible,  and  these  well-groomed  priests, 
by  keeping  the  people  ignorant,  play  upon  their 
credulity.  In  the  Chapel  of  Lost  Souls,  where 
prayers  are  said  for  souls  in  Purgatory,  a priest 


112  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

named  Concha  carried  on  this  farce  until  he  was 
eighty-seven  years  old.  The  cheapest  mass 
even  for  the  paupers  is  one  dollar,  and  the  rich 
are  .squeezed  for  all  they  are  worth.  Father 
Concha  during  his  lifetime  celebrated  forty-five 
thousand  masses  at  so  much  a say,  which  must 
have  netted  him  a million  dollars!  No  priest 
can  celebrate  more  than  one  mass  a day  and  two 
on  Sunday,  which  makes  about  four  hundred 
and  fifty  in  a year.  Suppose  he  accepts  two 
hundred  dollars  from  two  hundred  poor  people 
at  a dollar  a mass,  and  accepts  five  hundred 
dollars  from  the  wealthy  ; he  accepts  more  money 
than  he  can  legally  earn  in  a 37-ear.  Does  he 
return  that  money?  Not  much.  And  how  is 
the  poor  deluded  creature  to  ever  know  that  the 
prayer  he  paid  for  will  ever  be  said,  to  help  the 
late  departed  friend  in  Purgatory?  He  has 
absolute  faith  in  the  process,  and  it  never 
occurs  to  him  to  figure  out  the  possibility  of  his 
particular  prayer  being  laid  upon  the  shelf  on 
account  of  press  of  business. 

Most  priests  make  engagements  or  ‘ ‘ inten- 
tions” for  more  masses  than  they  can  perform, 
and  if  he  is  honest,  he  will  sell  his  surplus  to  a 
less  favored  brother  priest  with  few  “briefs”  at 
a handsome  profit.  Technically  they  are  sup- 
posed to  do  that,  but  who  ever  knew  a priest  to 
do  so? 

O no,  he  knows  a good  thing  wdien  he  sees  it 
and  the  1 ‘ dear  people  ’ ’ will  never  know  the 
whole  thing  is  a humbug.  To  be  sure,  wdien 
the  priest  finds  a tough  case  he  will  charge  a 
good  round  sum  to  pray  him  out  of  Purgatory, 
and  he  usually  collects  from  Mr.  T.  C.  while  he 


The  Valley  of  Mexico.  113 

is  alive  and  in  good  health,  clothed  and  in  his 
right  mind. 

Reprobate  sinners  who  had  a tough  time  on 
earth  and  no  hopes  for  better  in  the  future, 
generally  fix  the  fixture  all  right  with  the  padre 
before  they  start  to  the  house-warming.  Now 
these  good  fathers  do  not  believe  a word  of  the 
doctrine  they  preach,  because  they  are  all  well 
educated,  but  they  teach  it  to  the  people  and 
threaten  with  excommunication  if  they  do  not 
find  the  shekels,  so  the  poor  beggars  will  go 
naked  to  find  their  assessment. 

And  not  only  in  Mexico.  I know  a poor  woman 
in  Michigan  who  had  to  sell  her  only  cow  to 
raise  a forty  dollar  assessment  on  a new  church, 
and  she  did  it  under  fear  of  a threat.  I have 
had  a poor  cancer-eaten  pilowa  hold  out  her 
skinny  hand  to  me  and  beg  in  the  name  of  God 
for  “ un  centavo , Senor,'n  for  her  starving  child- 
ren, and  I have  followed  her  back  to  the  vestry 
to  see  her  buy  candles  to  burn  before  the  altar 
of  her  chosen  saint  for  value  received  from  that 
defunct  in  times'  past.  What  does  the  priest 
care  for  the  price  of  blood-money?  Follow  me 
to  Jinks  and  see. 

Jinks  is  a licensed  gambling  house,  that  I 
was  told  on  good  authority  paid  the  city  twenty 
thousand  dollars  a year  to  run  the  faro  bank, 
three  card  monte  and  the  roulette  wheel.  In 
search  after  knowledge,  I went  to  Jinks.  It  is 
as  public  as  a theater  and  good  order  is  preserved 
by  policemen  who  sit  to  the  closing  hour  and 
see  the  lights  out.  There  at  a late  hour  I saw 
barrels  and  barrels  of  silver  dollars  change  hands. 
Neither  bank  drafts,  paper  money  nor  gold  are 
accepted — only  silver. 


114 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


Great  brawny  armed  porters  are  there  whose 
only  duty  is  to  carry  boxes  of  silver  from  the 
vaults  to  the  table,  and  from  the  table  to  the 
vaults,  and  at  every  table  sit  the  clean  faced 
priests  wTho  gamble  with  stacks  of  silver  till 
the  wee  sma’  hours,  and  tomorrow  they  will  go 
among  their  parishioners  and  beg  more  money 
for  Mother  Church.  They  teach  the  people  that 
absolute  obedience  to  church  behests  can  only 
be  had  in  obedience  without  will  and  will  with- 
out reason. 

Says  Charles  Lampriere:  “The  Mexican 
church,  as  a church,  fills  no  mission  of  virtue, 
no  mission  of  morality,  no  mission  of  mercy,  no 
mission  of  charity.  Virtue  cannot  exist  in  its 
pestiferous  atmosphere.  The  cause  of  morality 
does  not  come  within  its  practice.  It  knows  no 
mercy  and  no  emotion  of  charity  ever  nerves  the 
stony  heart  of  the  priesthood,  which,  with  an 
avarice  that  knows  no  limit,  filches  the  last 
penny  from  the  diseased  and  dying  beggar, 
plunders  the  widows  and  orphans  of  their  sub- 
stance as  well  as  their  virtue,  and  casts  such  a 
horoscope  of  horrors  around  the  death-bed  of 
the  dying  millionaire,  that  the  poor,  supersti- 
tious wretch  is  glad  to  purchase  a chance  for 
the  safety  of  his  soul  in  making  the  church  the 
heir  of  his  treasure.” 

The  reader  may  get  the  impression  that  I am 
rather  hard  on  the  Catholic  Church.  Of  the 
church  in  the  United  States  I know  but  little, 
but  when  the  reader  has  seen  as  much  of  the 
church  as  I saw  in  Mexico,  he  will  at  least  be 
charitable  to  the  writer.  There  in  the  Catholic 
Church  the  worship  of  Christ  is  hidden  behind 
the  theatricals  of  gaudily  dressed  priests,  in- 


The  Valley  of  Mexico. 


115 


censed  sanctuaries,  ornamented  images  of  the 
Virgin  Mary,  beautiful  pictures,  frescoed  paint- 
ings, scapulars,  medals,  relics,  and  Agnus  Deis, 
with  their  accompanying  indulgences ; and 
associated  with  most  entrancing  music,  fragrant 
flowers,  lighted  candles,  gorgeously  dressed 
altars,  surpliced  acolytes,  blessed  ashes,  holy 
water,  consecrated  wafers,  holy  oil  and  chrism. 

There  are  also  the  attractive  ceremony  of 
extreme  unction,  confession,  satisfaction,  besides 
the  lenten  feasts,  the  days  of  abstinence,  genu- 
flections and  stations  of  the  cross,  the  crozier, 
and  mitres,  with  the  pontifical  high  mass, 
decorations,  Latin  liturgies,  illuminated  missals, 
gold  and  silver  ciboriums,  ostensoriums  and 
chalices,  carxdelabras  and  vases,  crosses  and  prec- 
ious stones,  costly  laces  and  fine  linens,  and  the 
royal  purple  and  the  countless  ceremonies  which 
the  blind  follower  is  not  meant  to  understand. 

The  bible  and  Christ  are  left  out  of  the  above 
enumeration,  and  never  have  I seen  the  bible  in 
the  hands  of  a Mexican  layman.  They  are 
discouraged  from  owning  a bible  and  are  told 
that  the  priest  will  read  and  interpret  it  for 
them.  What  can  a Mexican  Indian  get  for  his 
peace  of  soul  and  conscience  out  of  the  above 
enumeration,  when  probabty  five  hundred  words 
constitute  his  entire  vocabulary  and  Latin  is  no 
part  of  it?  All  these  insignia  must  he  go 
through  before  he  gets  to  Christ,  and  then  he  is 
told  he  is  not  worthy  to  go  to  Hin^,  but  must 
pray  the  Holy  Virgin  and  the  Saints  to  inter- 
cede for  him,  else  he  will  be  eternally  damned 
in  the  fires  of  Purgatory.  Some  particular 
Saint  is  chosen  and  assigned  him,  and  he  is 
assured  that  if  he  buy  candles  enough  and  burn 


116 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


them  on  the  altar  before  that  particular  saint, 
the  said  saint  will  prosper  his  undertaking,  and 
if  it  succeed,  he  must  ever  afterward  give  the 
credit  to  the  saint. 

We  were  looking  at  the  statue  of  the  patriot, 
Hidalgo.  My  young  Mexican  friend  said: 
“Hidalgo  is  our  patron  saint,  he  freed  us  from 
Spain;  who  is  yours?”  I said  that  I was  a 
protestant  and  had  no  patron  saint.  “But,”  he 
said,  “you  must  have  one.  We  were  subjects 
of  Spain,  and  Hidalgo  started  the  revolution  that 
made  us  free.  Therefore  he  was  canonized  and  be- 
came our  patron,  and  now  we  pray  to  him  when 
we  want  favors.  Your  people  were  once  slaves 
and  got  your  freedom  from  the  Americans,  and 
you  must  have  had  a leader,  else  how  could  ten 
million  slaves  vanquish  sixty  million  Ameri- 
cans ? ” “But,”  I said:  “you  don’t  read 
American  history.  We  did  not  get  our  freedom 
by  a revolution,  but  by  a civil  war  with  Ameri- 
cans fighting  on  both  sides.”  “ But  you  were 
bound  to  have  a leader,  who  was  he?  ” “ Oh  !” 

I said,  “it  was  Frederick  Douglass.”  Abeam 
of  satisfaction  crossed  his  countenance  as  he 
handed  me  his  hand:  “We  have  both  been  in 
the  toils  and  our  good  saints  have  made  us  free. 
Viva  Douglass  y Viva  Hildalgo ! ” 

And  so  these  poor  deluded  people  are  taught 
that  every  good  and  perfect  thing  cometh  from 
above,  but — through  the  hands  of  a saint  or  the 
Mother  of  God,  and  the  only  honor  that  re- 
dounds to  Christ  and  his  Father  is  the  fact  that 
they  are  members  of  the  same  family  as  the  Holy 
Virgin.  And  so  by  a system  of  black-mail, 
more  tyrannical  than  was  the  brigandage  of 
twenty  years  ago,  priest-ridden  Mexico  has  built 


The  Valley  of  Mexico. 


117 


three  magnificent  piles  of  rock  and  marble  and 
alabaster  and  chalcedony  with  the  blood  of 
widows  and  orphans. 

The  world  was  shocked  a few  years  ago  be- 
cause Mtesa  did  the  same  thing  in  Africa.  The 
only  difference  I see  is  that  Mtesa  killed  his 
victims  outright  and  mixed  mortar  with  the 
blood  of  young  girls,  but  here  the  process  is  a 
lingering  torture  of  body  and  mind,  and  a life 
of  abject  poverty  and  misery  for  the  living  that 
overwhelms  the  stranger  with  its  omnipres- 
ence. The  Catholic  faith  has  changed  these 
people’s  ceremonies,  but  not  their  dogmas.  The 
bowing  to  the  statues  and  altars  and  images  of 
the  apostles,  and  the  veneration  of  the  shrines 
and  the  absolute  faith  in  the  incantations  of  the 
priests  to  the  power  they  do  not  understand,  is 
exactly  what  the  Aztecs  did  in  the  temple  of  the 
war-god  six  hundred  years  ago. 

His  public  ceremony  is  changed  and  he  no 
longer  offers  human  sacrifice  upon  the  altars, 
but  there  are  Indians  in  Mexico  today  who  will 
secretly  celebrate  their  ancient  festivals,  and 
slyly  hang  wreaths  of  flowers  upon  the  huge 
idols  on  exhibition  in  the  City  of  Mexico. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE  SHRINE  OF  GUADALUPE. 

HREE  miles  north  of  the  City  is  the  Hill 


of  Tepeyacac.  Leading  from  the  city  is 


JL  the  ancient  causeway  built  across  the  lake 
to  Tepeyacac  before  the  Conquest.  A street  car 
now  traverses  this  causeway  to  the  town  of 
Guadalupe  and  the  famous  Shrine  of  Our  Lady 
of  Guadalupe,  the  holiest  fane  in  Mexico.  The 
chain  of  mountains  which  bound  the  Valley  of 
Mexico  on  the  north  here  project  into  the  valley 
and  terminate  in  the  Hill  of  Tepeyacac,  in  the 
Aztec  language,  “ the  termination.”  Before  the 
Conquest,  the  Indians  worshiped  on  this  hill 
an  idol  called  Tonantzin,  “The  Mother  of  the 
Gods . ’ * This  deity  seemed  to  have  corresponded 
to  the  Cybele  of  classical  antiquity. 

Father  Florencia,  who  is  the  safest  authority 
to  follow  on  the  apparition  up  to  the  year  1688, 
when  he  published  his  book,  “The  Northern 
Star  of  Mexico,”  piously  observes: — “The  Vir- 
gin desired  that  her  miraculous  appearance 
should  take  place  on  this  hill  to  dispossess  the 
mother  of  false  gods  of  the  vain  adoration  ren- 
dered to  the  idol  by  the  Indians,  and  to  show 
the  latter  that  she  alone  was  the  Mother  of  the 
true  God,  and  the  true  mother  of  men,  and  that 


118 


The  Shrine  of  Guadalupe.  119 

where  crime  and  idolatry  and  human  sacrifice 
had  abounded,  grace  should  still  more  abound. 

THE  LEGEND. 

Tradition  says  that  an  Indian  neophyte,  Juan 
Diego,  was  on  his  way  on  the  morning  of  Satur- 
day, Dec.  -9,  1581,  to  hear  the  Christian  doctrine 
expounded  by  the  Franciscans  of  Santiago  Tlal- 
teloco.  His  home  was  at  Tolpetlac,  and  to  reach 
the  city  he  had  to  pass  the  Hill  of  Tepeyacac. 
On  reaching  the  eastern  side  of  the  hill,  he  heard 
strains  of  music  which  seemed  to  him  like  the 
notes  of  a chorus  of  birds.  He  stood  still  to 
listen,  and  then  beheld  on  the  hillside  the  vision 
of  a beautiful  lady,  surrounded  by  clouds,  tinged 
with  the  colors  of  the  rainbow. 

The  lady  called  Juan,  and  as  her  appearance 
was  both  commanding  and  gracious  he  at  once 
obeyed,  and  she  addressed  him  as  follows : 
•‘Know,  my  son,  that  I am  the  Virgin  Mary, 
mother  of  the  true  God.  My  will  is  that  a 
temple  should  be  built  for  me  here  on  this  spot, 
where  you  and  all  your  race  will  be  always  able 
to  find  me  and  seek  my  aid  in  all  your  troubles. 
Go  to  the  Bishop  and  in  my  name  tell  him  what 
.you  have  seen  and  heard.  Tell  him,  too,  that 
this  is  my  wish,  that  a church  be  built  for  me 
here,  and  for  so  doing  I will  repay  you  with 
many  graces.” 

Juan  sought  the  Bishop,  who  was  Juan  de 
Zumarraga,  a Franciscan,  the  first  and  last 
Bishop  of  Mexico ; for  during  the  closing  years 
of  his  life,  the  see  was  raised  to  the  rank  of 
archbishop.  Juan  Diego  had  some  difficulty  in 
gaining  admission  to  the  prelate’s  presence,  and 
when  he  succeeded  in  delivering  his  message, 


120  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

small  attention  was  paid  to  it,  as  the  Bishop 
was  inclined  to  treat  the  story  as  an  hallucina- 
tion. Juan  Diego  returned  that  afternoon  to 
his  village,  and  passed  the  same  spot  where  he 
had  seen  the  vision  in  the  morning. 

The  lady  was  again  there,  and  asked  him  how 
he  had  sped.  He  related  the  slight  attention 
the  Bishop  had  paid  him,  and  asked  the  lady  to 
be  pleased  to  choose  another  messenger.  But 
she  replied  that  he  was  not  to  be  dejected,  but  to 
return  to  the  episcopal  residence  and  deliver  the 
message  the  following  day.  The  next  day  was 
Sunday  and  Juan  rose  early,  came  in  and 
heard  mass  at  the  parish  church  of  Santiago 
Tlalteloco,  and  then  repaired  to  the  house  of  the 
Bishop  and  repeated  his  errand  with  great  ear- 
nestness. This  time  the  prelate  paid  more 
attention  to  the  Indian’s  narrative,  and  told 
him  if  the  lady  appeared  again,  he  was  to  ask 
her  for  a sign.  At  this  Juan  was  dismissed  and 
the  Bishop  sent  two  servants  after  him  covertly, 
to  observe  what  he  did  and  whither  he  went. 
The  servants  did  as  they  were  bidden,  following 
Juan  along  the  same  road  that  leads  today  from 
the  City  of  Mexico  to  Tepeyacac,  but  when  Juan 
reached  the  Hill,  he  became  invisible  to  their 
eyes,  and  though  they  walked  round  and  round 
the  Hill  they  could  not  find  him.  Therefore  they 
returned  to  the  Bishop  and  told  him  that  in 
their  opinion  Juan  was  an  impostor  and  an 
embassador  of  the  devil  and  not  of  the  Virgin. 

But  while  Juan  was  invisible  to  them  he  was 
once  more  in  converse  with  the  lady,  and  told 
her  the  Bishop  had  commanded  him  to  ask  for  a 
sign,  so  she  told  him  to  return  on  the  following 


The  Shrine  of  Guadalupe.  121 

morning  and  she  would  give  him  a sign  which 
would  win  him  full  credit  for  his  mission. 

On  reaching  home  Juan  found  his  uncle,  Juan 
Bernadino,  dangerously  sick.  Instead  of  re- 
turning to  the  lady  next  day,  he  spent  the  time 
hunting  medicine-men  among  his  tribe,  and  in 
gathering  simple  remedies  for  a cure.  But  all 
day  his  uncle  got  steadily  worse,  and  so  the 
following  morning,  Dec.  12,  1531,  he  started  for 
the  Franciscan  convent  of  Santiago  Tlalteloco 
to  fetch  a confessor  for  his  uncle.  The  road  led 
by  the  Hill  of  Tepeyacac,  and  fearful  of  meeting 
the  vision  again,  he  determined  to  pass  by 
another  route.  But  this  did  not  avail  him,  for 
near  the  place  where  the  spring  now  bubbles  up, 
he  saw  the  vision  for  the  fourth  time.  The 
lady  did  not  seem  at  all  offended  at  Juan  for  not 
coming  on  the  day  she  had  commanded,  but  told 
him  not  to  be  anxious  about  his  uncle,  as  at  that 
moment  he  was  sound  and  well  again.  She  then 
spoke  of  the  sign  or  token  for  the  Bishop,  and 
told  Juan  to  climb  to  the  top  of  the  hill  (where 
the  small  chapel  now  stands)  and  that  there  he 
should  find  a quantity  of  roses  growing ; that  he 
should  gather  them  all,  fill  his  tilma  with  them, 
and  carry  them  to  the  Bishop. 

Juan  knew  well  that  December  was  not  the 
time  of  year  for  roses,  and  besides  that  bare 
rock  never  produced  'flowers  at  any  time  of  year, 
but  he  immediately  did  as  the  lady  told  him,  and 
found  the  spot  aglow  with  the  most  beautiful 
roses  blossoming.  He  gathered  them  one  by 
one  and  immediately  repaired  to  the  Bishop’s 
residence.  Juan  told  him  what  had  happened, 
and  opened  out  his  tilma.  The  flowers  fell  to 
the  ground,  when  it  was  seen  that  a represen ta- 


122 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


tion  of  the  vision  had  been  miraculously  painted 
on  the  coarse  fabric  of  the  tilma.  The  Bishop 
fell  on  his  knees  and  spent  some  time  in  prayer. 
He  then  untied  the  tilma  from  the  Indian’s  neck, 
and  placed  it  temporarily  over  the  altar  of  his 
private  oratory. 

Such  is  the  tradition,  believed  by  the  majority, 
though  not  by  all  Mexican  Catholics.  I shall  nob 
treat  of  the  legend  theologically,  but  as  a trav- 
eler interested  in  all  traditions  and  monuments 
so  abundant  in  this  historic  land. 

The  apparition  of  the  Virgin  of  Guadalupe 
belongs  not  to  that  class  of  beliefs  in  the  Catholic 
Communion  which  are  articles  of  faith  bind- 
ing on  the  conscience  of  all  Catholics,  but  to 
those  pious  popular  traditions  which  have  re- 
ceived a more  or  less  direct  sanction  from  the 
ecclesiastical  authorities,  and  which  it  is  con- 
sidered improper  in  members  of  the  Catholic 
Church  to  doubt  or  call  in  question,  at  least 
publicly.  This  may  satisfy  the  curiosity  of  a 
number  of  people  who  profess  no  particular 
belief,  but  are  anxious  for  impartial  information. 

Bishop  Zumarraga  at  once  set  to  work  to 
build  a hermitage  or  small  chapel  at  the  foot  of 
the  hill  of  Tepeyacac  for  the  reception  of  the 
miraculous  painting,  and,  as  Father  Florencia 
observes,  11  Bis  dat  qui  cito  dal”  the  work  was 
pushed  so  rapidly  that  the  building  was  ready 
Dec.  26,  1581,  fourteen  days  after  the  vision 
appeared  on  the  tilma . The  painting  was  trans- 
ported to  the  chapel  with  great  pomp,  and  the 
occasion  forms  the  subject  of  one  of  the  wall 
paintings  in  the  present  basilica , executed  by 
Father  Gonzalo  Carrasco,  and  to  which  allusion 
will  he  made  in  the  description  of  the  edifice. 


The  Shrine  of  Guadalupe. 


123 


For  ninety  years  the  piety  of  the  Mexicans  was 
displayed  towards  the  image  in  this  small  chapel. 
But  such  was  the  quantity  of  alms  deposited  by 
the  worshipers,  that  enough  money  was  soon 
available  to  erect  a sumptuous  shrine  for  the 
reception  of  the  venerated  image.  This  church 
was  dedicated  by  Juan  de  La  Cerna,  Archbishop 
of  Mexico,  November  1G22.  In  this  church  the 
image  was  venerated  350  years,  and  is  substan- 
tially the  same  as  the  present  basilica  in  spite 
of  external  repairs  and  internal  alterations. 

In  1G29  occurred  the  great  inundation  in 
Mexico  City,  and  it  was  determined  by  the 
Archbishop  Francisco  Manso  y Zuniga  and  the 
Marquis  de  Ceralvo,  to  bring  the  image  of  the 
Virgin  to  the  city  to  procure  a subsidence  of 
the  waters. 

Quite  a fleet  of  barges  and  gondolas,  with  the 
civil  and  ecclesiastical  dignitaries  on  board, 
started  for  the  sanctuary  of  Guadalupe,  as  it 
was  not  possible  to  reach  it  on  foot  on  account 
of  the  inundation.  The  image  on  the  tilma 
was  taken  on  board  the  barge  of  the  archbishop, 
which,  as  evening  approached  was  lighted,  as 
were  the  gondolas,  with  Chinese  lanterns. 
Musicians  played  sacred  music  as  the  fleet  moved 
over  the  placid  waters.  On  arriving  in  the  city, 
the  image  was  placed  in  the  archiepiseopal  man- 
sion, whence,  on  the  following  day,  it  was 
carried  to  the  Cathedral,  where  it  remained 
four  years,  the  inundation  lasting  that  long. 
However,  the  Mexicans  assert  that  it  was  the 
intercession  of  the  Virgin  that  caused  the  sub- 
sidence of  the  water  after  all. 

In  16G6,  the  Dean  of  the  Cathedral  of  Mexico, 
D.  Francisco  Siles,  determined  to  collect  the 


124 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


floating  traditional  evidence  of  the  apparition 
in  a clear  and  methodical  form.  Quite  a num- 
ber of  witnesses  were  examined  by  the  tribunal, 
composed  of  the  following  ecclesiastics: — Juan 
de  Poblete,  Juan  de  la  Camara,  Juan  Deiz  de  la 
Barrera  and  Nicolas  del  Puerto. 

Canons  Siles  and  Antonio  de  Gama  went  to 
the  village  of  Cuantitlan,  where  Juan  Diego  was 
supposed  to  have  been  born,  to  look  up  witnesses. 
Some  of  the  witnesses  examined  were  ovc  r a 
hundred  years  old.  All  of  the  witnesses  testified 
to  having,  in  childhood,  heard  the  tradition 
from  their  parents.  It  was  then  attempted  on 
the  strength  of  the  evidence  thus  collected,  to 
obtain  the  approval  of  Rome  for  the  apparition, 
but  the  attempt  was  then  unsuccessful. 

Cardinal  Julio  Rospillozi,  who  in  1667  was 
elected  Pope  under  title  of  Clement  IX.,  wrote 
in  1666  to  Dr.  Antonio  de  Peralta  y Castaneda, 
of  the  Cathedral  of  Puebla,  saying  it  would  be 
impossible  to  obtain  the  countenance  of  Rome. 
He  said  that  as  the  image  seemed  to  be  identical 
with  the  Immaculate  Conception,  it  seemed 
superfluous  to  grant  a special  office  for  the 
festival  of  Guadalupe.  Afterwards,  being  elected 
Pope,  he  granted  some  favors  to  this  devotion. 

In  1740,  Boturini  obtained  the  papal  authority 
for  crowning  the  image,  but  his  failure  and 
subsequent  disgrace  are  well  known.  In  1751, 
the  Jesuit  priest,  Juan  Francisco  Lopez,  was 
sent  to  Rome  on  a.  special  mission,  both  to  con- 
firm the  choice  of  Mexico  of  the  Virgin  of 
Guadalupe  as  its  special  patron,  and  to  obtain 
a special  mass  and  office  for  the  feast  of  the  12th 
of  December.  He  took  with  him  two  copies  of 
the  image,  said  to  have  been  made  by  the  cele- 


The  Shrine  of  Guadalupe. 


125 


brated  artist  Miguel  Cabrera.  Lopez  performed 
his  mission  with  great  energy  and  success.  He 
obtained  an  audience  with  the  reigning  Pope, 
Benedict  XIV.,  showed  him  the  copies  and  gained 
all  his  requests.  When,  in  1756,  he  returned  to 
Mexico  bearing  the  papal  briefs,  he  was  received 
with  immense  honors  and  rejoicings. 

To  come  to  a later  date,  in  1886,  the  arch- 
bishops of  Mexico,  Michoacan  and  Guadalajara 
applied  to  the  Pope  for  permission  to  crown  the 
image.  This  privilege  can  be  granted  only  by 
the  Pope,  and  the  crowning  is  theoretically 
done  by  him.  Leo  XIII.  made  favorable 
answer  in  February  1887,  and  in  August  1894 
granted  some  additions  to  the  office  and 
lessons  for  the  day.  The  ceremony  of  the  coro- 
nation took  place  at  last,  Oct.  12,  1895,  in  the 
presence  of  thirty-seven  Mexican,  American, 
Canadian  and  other  prelates, and  alarge  concourse 
of  the  clergy  and  the  most  prominent  citizens  of 
Mexico.  When  the  crown  was  raised  to  its 
position  above  the  image,  the  congregation  broke 
into  loud  acclamations.  The  crown  itself  is  a 
miracle  of  the  jeweler’s  art,  and  with  its  galaxy 
of  gems— diamonds,  rubies  and  sapphires — is 
worth  a king’s  ransom. 

Early  in  1887  Father  Antonio  Plancarte  y 
Labastida,  a nephew  of  the  then  archbishop  of 
Mexico,  prepared  to  carry  out  a long  cherished 
design  for  the  renovation  and  embellishment  of 
the  church  of  Our  Lady  of  Guadalupe.  For 
this  purpose,  the  image,  after  much  opposition 
on  the  part  of  the  Indians,  was  conveyed  to  the 
neighboring  Church  of  Capuchinas,  and  the 
extensive  plans  were  then  initiated.  The  arch- 
itect first  employed  was  Emilio  Donde,  but  he 


126 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


was  soon  superceded  by  Juan  Agea.  At  an 
early  hour  on  the  morning  of  Sept.  30,  1895, 
the  image  was  carried  back  to  the  basilica,  and 
the  restored  building  was  consecrated  Oct.  1 . 

The  first  impression  on  entering  is  an  ensemble 
of  gorgeous  and  harmonious  coloring,  and  it  is 
some  time  before  the  e)e  can  rest  on  individual 
objects.  Naturally  the  raised  Prisbyterium 
and  High  Altar  claim  attention.  The  Presb}- 
terium  is  reached  by  four  separate  flights  of 
twelve  steps.  It  is  paved  with  diamond  slabs 
of  white  and  black  Carrara  marble.  The  altar  and 
reredos,  the  latter  affecting  the  form  of  a frame 
for  the  painting  of  the  Virgin,  are  severe  and 
classical  in  design.  The  onty  material  used  is 
the  finest  Carrara  marble  known  as“  Biano  P.,” 
and  exquisitely  wrought  gilded  bronze.  All  the 
marble  of  the  altar  is  monolithic,  and  was  ex- 
ecuted at  Carrara  by  the  sculptor  Nicoli,  the 
Mexican  architects  Juan  Agea  and  Salome  Pina. 
All  the  bronze  work  is  from  Brussels.  On  either 
side  of  the  altar  is  a figure  kneeling  in  adoration ; 
that  on  the  left,  or  Gospel  side,  is  Bishop  Zumar- 
raga,  that  on  the  Epistle  side  is  Juan  Diego, 
who  is  represented  as  making  an  offering  of 
roses.  Both  are  of  Carrara  marble.  At  the  top 
of  the  reredos  are  three  angels,  representing  the 
archdioceses  of  Mexico,  Michoacan  and  Guada- 
lajara, which  applied  to  Pope  Leo  XIII.  for 
permission  to  crown  the  image.  The  central 
one  holds  out  a crown  of  singularly  pure  and 
chaste  design.  Below  them  and  immediately 
above  the  frame  is  a cherub  in  relief,  holding 
the  jeweled  crown.  The  High  Altar  is  double, 
there  being  slabs  for  the  celebration  of  mass, 
both  before  and  behind.  Over  the  High  Altar 


The  Shrine  of  Guadalupe. 


127 


is  a handsome  Byzantine  baldachin  sustained  by 
pillars  of  Scotch  granite  from  Aberdeen,  and  the 
baldachin  is  surmounted  by  a gilded  cross 
formed  of  roses.  The  rose  occurs  in  all  the 
decorations,  as  it  is  the  symbol  of  the  Virgin  of 
Guadalupe. 

On  the  top  of  the  front  arch  of  the  baldachin 
are  the  arms  of  Pope  Leo  XIII.  and  the  apices 
of  the  other  three  arches  are  filled  with  the 
arms  of  the  Archbishops  of  Mexico,  Michoacan 
and  Guadalajara.  On  the  vault  of  the  balda- 
chin, in  Gothic  letters  are  the  Latin  distiches, 
composed  for  the  image  by  Pope  Leo  Xfll.  and 
which  are  as  follows:  — 

Mexicus  heic  pop-ulus  mira  sub  Imagine  gaudet 
Te  colere,  alma  Parens , praesidioque  frui 
Per  te  sic  vigeat  felix,  teque  auspice , Christe 
Immotam  servet  firmior  usque  fidem. 

Leo  P.  P.  XIII. 

TRANSLATED. 

“The  Mexican  people  rejoice  in  worshiping 
Thee,  Holy  Mother,  under  this  miraculous  im- 
age, and  in  looking  to  Thee  for  protection 
maj-  that  people  through  Thee,  flourish  in  hap- 
piness, and  ever,  under  Thy  auspices,  grow 
stronger  in  the  faith  of  Christ.” 

The  four  angels  of  the  baldachin  between  the 
arches  are  occupied  with  allegorical  bronze  stat- 
ues of  the  four  cardinal  virtues,  Prudence,  Jus- 
tice, Fortitude  and  Temperance. 

Underneath  the  High  Altar  is  a crypt,  the 
vaulted  iron  roof  of  which  is  capable  of  sustain- 
ing a weight  of  three  hundred  thousand  pounds. 
This  crypt  contains  four  altars  underneath  the 
high  altar,  also  urns  or  cinerarium s for  the  re- 


128 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


ception  of  the  thirty  persons  who  contributed 
$5000  each  to  $150,000  for  the  High  Altar. 

The  railing  around  this  altar  is  of  solid  silver, 
and  weighs  fifty-two  thousand  pounds,  or 
twenty-six  tons.  Immediately  in  front  of  the 
High  Altar,  but  below  the  Presbyterium  is  a 
kneeling  marble  statue  of  Mgr.  Labastida  y Da- 
valos,  late  archbishop  of  Mexico,  and  underneath 
the  statue  rests  the  ashes  of  his  parents.  His 
own  are  soon  to  be  removed  here. 

The  vaults  of  the  roof  are  painted  blue  with 
gold  stars  in  relief.  The  stars  are  of  cedar, 
gilded  over  and  screwed  into  the  roof.  The  ribs 
of  the  vaulting  are  beautifully  decorated  in  the 
Byzantine  style,' and  the  dome  is  a rich  mass  of 
gilding  festooned  with  pink  roses.  The  several 
divisions  of  the  dome  are  occupied  alternately 
by  frescoes  of  the  Virgin  of  Guadalupe  and  of 
angels  bearing  scrolls.  In  each  division  is  one 
of  the  poetical  avocations  in  which  the  Catholics 
impetrate  the  Virgin,  such  as  “Seat  of  Wis- 
dom,” “ Mirror  of  Justice,  ” “ Mystical  Rose,” 
“Ask  for  the  Covenant,”  etc.  The  windows  of 
the  dome,  of  stained  glass,  were  given  by  the 
College  of  the  Sacret  Heart  of  San  Cosine. 

The  most  striking  of  the  interior  decorations 
are  the  fine  large  wall  frescoes.  The  one  on  the 
right  represents  the  conversion  of  the  Indians 
through  the  Virgin  of  Guadalupe.  Groups  of 
friars  are  preaching  and  baptizing,  while  hover- 
ing in  the  air  is  the  figure  of  the  Virgin.  This 
is  by  the  artist  Felipe  S.  Gutierrez.  The  next 
represents  the  image  being  carried  to  the  small 
chapel,  December  26,  1581.  This  is  a brilliant 
piece  of  work,  and  reflects  great  credit  upon  the 
young  artist,  a young  Jesuit  priest,  Fr.  Gon- 


The  Shrine  of  Guadalupe. 


129 


zalo  Carrasco.  The  image  is  carried  beneath  a 
canopy,  and  attended  by  gorgeously  arrayed 
priests  and  prelates.  Then  there  are  the  friars 
and  Indians  and  Spanish  cavaliers,  and  acolytes 
bearing  candles,  flabelli,  etc.  In  the  lower 
right-hand  corner  is  represented  the  first  miracle 
alleged  to  have  been  wrought  by  the  Virgin  of 
Guadalupe.  The  Indians,  in  honor  of  the  pro- 
cession are  letting  off  arrows,  and  one  of  them 
enters  the  neck  of  an  Indian.  His  mother  begs 
the  procession  to  turn  back,  and  as  it  passes  her 
son,  so  goes  the  story,  he  is  healed. 

On  the  western  side,  nearest  the  High  Altar, 
is  the  fresco  of  the  taking  of  evidence  for  the 
Apparition  in  1660.  This  is  by  Ibarraran  y 
Ponce.  The  next  is  by  Felix  Parra,  and  is 
called  a gorgeous  poem  in  color.  It  represents 
the  period  of  “ Matlazahuatl,”  the  dread  pesti- 
lence which  devastated  the  city  in  1737,  when 
the  Archbishop  Antonio  Bizarron  y Equiarreta 
solemnly  put  the  city  under  the  protection  of 
the  Virgin  and  immediately  the  plague  departed. 
In  the  foreground  is  an  Indian  stricken  with  the 
plague.  The  last  fresco  represents  the  presen- 
tation of  a copy  of  the  image  to  Pope  Benedict 
XIV.  The  Pontiff  is  in  the  act  of  exclaiming: 
u Non  fecit  taliter  omni  Nationi ! ” Between  the 
first  two  frescoes  is  a mural  inscription  in  Latin  : 
“ The  Mexican  people,  in  honor  of  the  Virgin  of 
Guadalupe,  wTho  in  old  time  appeared  on  the 
hill  of  Tepeyacac  to  Juan  Diego,  erected  a holy 
temple,  and  with  all  piety  venerated  the  ancient 
image.  One  of  the  most  conspicuous  in  its  cult, 
was  the  Archbishop  Pelagio  Antonio  de  Labas- 
tida  y Davalos,  a most  munificent  restorer  of 
the  Collegiate  Church,  blow  at  length,  as  all 


130 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


had  wished,  and  as  the  Chapter  of  the  Vatican 
Basilica  had  decreed  in  A.  I).  1740,  the  famous 
image,  with  the  sanction  of  the  Supreme  Pontiff, 
Leo  XIII.,  was  crowned  with  a diadem  of  gold, 
on  the  fourth  day  before  the  Ides  of  October 
1895,  Prospero  M.  Alarcon  being  Archbishop  of 
Mexico,  to  stand  forever  as  a shield,  the  protec- 
tion and  the  honor  of  the  Mexican  people.” 

The  apse  behind  the  High  Altar  is  elaborately 
decorated  and  contains  many  mural  paintings 
of  popes  and  archbishops.  In  the  apse  is  the 
chapel  and  family  vault  of  Mr.  Antonio  de  Mier 
y Celis.  This  chapel  is  a perfect  gem  of  the 
decorative  art  and  is  dedicated  to  St.  Joseph. 
The  crypt  underneath  is  an  exact  reproduction 
of  the  Escorial  at  Madrid.  The  three  stained 
glass  windows  are  from  Munich  and  cost  $17,- 
000.  There  are  in  all,  ten  altars  in  the  church, 
and  its  total  cost  is  nearly  four  million  dollars. 
During  all  the  revolutions  and  political  upheav- 
als in  Mexico,  the  sanctity  of  Guadalupe  has 
immured  it  from  plunder;  the  most  reckless  free- 
booters forbearing  to  invade  the  hallowed 
ground  of  the  Virgin. 

You  leave  this  place  weighed  down  with  im- 
pressions of  magnificence,  wealth  and  beauty. 
Outside  the  door  of  this  four  million  dollar 
church  you  step  over  a hundred  naked,  starving 
beggars,  holding  their  skeleton  fingers  for  cop- 
pers. One  cent  seems  to  be  the  regulation  fee 
expected,  and  if  you  give  a beggar  five  cents  he 
returns  four  cents  change. 

Hear  by  is  the  government  building  in  which 
the  treaty  of  peace  was  signed  between  Mexico 
and  the  United  States.  Gaudalupe  Hidalgo  is 
what  the  treaty  is  called  in  history,  out  of  pa- 


The  Shrine  of  Guadalupe. 


131 


t riot-ism  for  the  memory  of  Hidalgo.  By  the 
little  chapel  is  a geranium  plant  in  full  bloom. 
Its  stem  is  five  inches  in  diameter,  and  the  top 
is  thirty  feet  in  the  air.  I suppose  the  Virgin 
exercises  an  - influence  over  it  as  with  every 
thing  else  here.  Across  the  little  plazuelu  is 
another  miracle  attributed  to  the  image.  At 
the  foot  of  the  rocky  hill  where  the  vision  ap- 
peared the  last  time,  boils  up  a spring  of  water 
that  is  a veritable  geyser.  It  is  said  to  have 
appeared  after  the  apparition  had  vanished.  It 
is  covered  with  a pavilion,  Capillo  del  Tocito, 
and  is  about  ten  feet  in  diameter,  and  about  the 
same  from  the  curb  to  the  water.  The  danger- 
ous pit  is  fenced  in  with  an  iron  railing,  and  as 
you  gaze  into  its  chalybeate  depths  surging 
below,  an  attendant  draws  up  a basin  of  water 
and  passes  it  to  you  with  a wonderful  narrative 
of  its  curative  properties  for  unfruitful  women, 
and  the  large  number  of  such  women  who  an- 
nually resort  to  it  for  relief  with  the  Virgin’s 
blessing. 

vThis  is  the  Indian’s  Mecca,  and  on  December 
12,  all  Indians  make  a pilgrimage  here  in  honor 
of  Juan  Diego,  the  only  Indian  saint  in  the 
calendar.  The  encircling  town  of  ten  thousand 
devotees  with  a permanent  residence  here  is  an 
earnest  of  the  strong  hold  it  has  upon  them. 
It  is  said  that  whoever  drinks  from  this  miracu- 
lous spring  is  compelled  to  return  again,  no 
matter  how  far  he  may  wander.  And  so  I was 
impelled  to  drink  of  the  vile  smelling  water  with 
the  hope  that  at  some  time  it  will  carry  me  to 
Guadalupe  again  without  the  necessity  of  a yard 
and  a half  of  railroad  ticket  which  gets  punched 
into  fragments  on  a ninety  day  circular  tour. 


132 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


I stayed  the  violent  eruption  which  the  medi- 
cated water  threatened  within,  and  turned  to 
the  broad  stone  steps  that  led  to  the  top  of  the 
hill  where  Juan  plucked  the  roses.  The  beauti- 
ful line  of  steps  leads  up  the  basaltic  cliff  to  a 
height  of  a hundred  and  fifty  feet,  and  where 
the  roses  grew  is  a little  chapel,  “ La  Capilla  de 
Cerrita, ” crowning  the  summit  of  Tepeyacac. 
Though  nearly  four  hundred  years  old,  the 
chapel  is  in  good  repair,  and  is  still  the  holiest 
shrine  in  Mexico.  The  entire  walls  are  covered 
with  pictures  of  the  miraculous  cures  by  the 
image. 

.There  is  a picture  of  a man  falling  from  a 
church  steeple,  and  afterwards  brought  to  life 
by  the  passage  of  the  image, and  a bull-fighter  im- 
paled on  the  horns  of  the  enraged  bull,  and  a 
hundred  similar  scenes  where  the  image  had  as- 
serted itself. 

It  was  worth  much  to  see  the  adoration  and 
utter  abandon  lavished  upon  this  image.  Pil- 
grims from  everywhere  stretched  themselves 
prone  upon  the  floor,  and  the  look  of  resignation 
said  as  plainly  as  the  words  could,  “ Now  Lord 
lettest  Thou  Thy  servant  die  in  peace.” 

I shook  myself  up  to  see  if  I could  awaken  a 
little  devotion  within  myself,  but  the  only  feel- 
ing I had  was  borrowed  from  that  little  incident 
on  Mount  Carmel,  when  that  rugged  old  spokes- 
man, Elijah,  the  Tashbite  called  down  fire  to 
consume  the  worshipers  of  Baal. 

The  faithful  looked  up  as  I wandered  among 
them  with  note-book  and  pencil.  They  did  not 
speak,  but  that  look  would  have  filled  three 
columns  of  close  printed  small  pica  type  if 
translated,  about  the  unregenerate  heathen  that 


The  Shrine  of  Guadalupe.  133 

did  not  bow  to  the  sacred  image  nor  cross  him- 
self when  he  passed  by  the  holy  water.  The 
scribe  was  there  solely  in  pursuit  of  knowledge, 
and  when  he  had  all  the  little  chapel  contained, 
he  stepped  over  the  prostrated  forms  on  the 
floor  and  passage-way  and  went  out  to  see  some 
more  miracles  performed  by  the  Virgin. 

Ten  steps  from  the  door  loomed  up  another 
miracle  as  big  as  life  and  almost  as  natural. 
This  was  the  old  stone  sail  and  ship’s  mast,  and 
thereby  hangs  a tale,  to  wit,  namely,  as  follows : 

‘ 4 Once  upon  a time,”  as  the  story-books  go, 
a very  rich  family  owned  a ship  which  was 
long  over-due  at  Vera  Cruz,  so  this  family  went 
to  the  Virgin,  or  to  the  image  rather,  and  laid 
the  case  before  it.  They  said  the  ship’s  cargo 
was  worth  almost  its  weight  in  Spanish  doub- 
loons, and  if  she  would  bring  that  ship  to  port, 
they  wrould  make  her  an  ex  voto  offering  of  the 
ship,  if  she  would  let  them  have  the  cargo.  The 
image  listened  and  concluded  that  the  bargain 
was  fair  enough,  so  shfe  let  the  ship  come  to 
port.  True  to  their  promise,  the  owner  had 
the  mast,  sails  and  cordage  brought  across  the 
Cordillera  Mountains  265  miles  to  Guadalupe 
and  set  them  up  in  front  of  the  church  and 
then  encased  the  whole  in  stone  just  as  you  see 
it  today,  and  if  any  one  doubts  that  the  Virgin 
saved  the  ship,  why,  “ there  stands  the  mast  it- 
self to  prove  it.”  It  is  useless  to  argue  against 
facts.  A single  look  of  interest  draws  a half  dozen 
guides  who  want  to  explain  all  about  the  Virgin 
and  the  image.  I give  them  enough  money  to 
get  drunk  on  and  die  if  they  will  leave  me  alone 
and  tell  me  no  more  about  the  wonder.  After 
they  are  gone  I turn  to  the  Campo  Santo,  just 


134 


Land  Without  Chimneys . 


behind  the  chapel.  This  is  the  Westminster  of 
Guadalupe,  full  to  running  over  with  illustrious 
pilgrims,  bandits  and  all. 

At  the  barred  gate  I was  met  by  a tall  pirate 
who  claimed  my  camera.  I told  him  I had 
passed  the  custom-house  with  that  box,  and 
that  there  was  nothing  seditious  in  it  but  a 
half  dozen  exposures  of  his  fellow-citizens,  and 
from  the  scarcity  of  clothes  they  had  on  they 
were  really  exposed  before  I found  them,  and 
besides,  I had  a deed  and  title  to  that  camera 
stretching  all  the  way  to  Boston.  He  said  that 
was  all  bue7io,  but  he  did  not  care  a hot  tamale 
about  that,  but  he  would  swear  by  all  the  saints 
and  the  Virgin  herself  that  I and  my  camera 
would  part  company  before  I entered  that  gate. 
“Why  sir,  don’t  you  know  that  you  stand  on 
holy  ground,  right  on  the  Hill  of  Tepeyacac  it- 
self, and  right  in  that  gate  is  the  tomb  of  Santa 
Anna?”  I told  him  that  was  all  bueno,  too,  but 
we  had  Santa  Anna’s  wooden  leg  in  the  Smith- 
sonian Institution,  and  I wag  not  afraid  of  any 
one-legged  man  hurting  me,  especially  one  that 
had  been  planted  twenty-six  years.  And  be- 
sides, I told  him  the  treaty  of  Guadalupe  Hi- 
dalgo was  signed  right  here  February  2,  1848, 
and  if  I remembered  correctly  the  treaty  ac- 
knowledged that  he  got  licked,  and  we  could 
lick  him  again  and  tie  one  hand  behind  our 
backs.  I did  not  want  to  trouble  the  Virgin  to 
bring  this  gate-keeper  back  to  life,  so  I gave 
him  my  camera. 

Among  the  Indians  of  our  country  one  can 
hardly  ever  get  an  Indian’s  picture;  they  think 
you  can  “hoodoo”  them  if  you  once  get  their 
picture.  Perhaps  they  think  the  same  here,  for 


The  Shrine  of  Guadalupe.  135 

I have  never  found  a Campo  Santo  unguarded, 
and  they  all  draw  the  line  between  me  and  my 
camera. 

I went  in  and  saw  that  Santa  Anna  was  still 
dead,  and  his  grave  was  covered  with  the  same 
wonderful  roses  that  the  Virgin  ordered  here 
four  hundred  years  ago.  Then  I began  to  fig- 
ure out  what  right  that  old  brigand  had  to 
be  buried  here  on  this  holy  hill. 

He  was  five  times  president  of  Mexico,  four 
times  Military  Dictator,  and  was  twice  banished 
to  the  West  Indies,  “For  his  own  and  for  his 
country’s  good.”  “Antonio  Lopez  de  Santa 
Anna,  February  21,  1798.”  So  his  birth-day 
just  lacked  one  day  of  making  him  Father  of 
his  Country,  but  seven  times  with  the  reins  of 
government  in  his  hands,  nearly  qualified  him 
to  be  step-father  anyway.  He  ought  to  have 
come  to  the  United  States  and  entered  politics. 

When  the  War  of  Independence  began  in  1821, 
he  joined  the  Mexican  forces  under  Iturbide, 
but  quarreled  with  him  the  next  year  and  put 
himself  at  the  head  of  a new  party,  and  seeing 
which  was  the  winning  side,  he  joined  Guerrera 
and  soon  became  Commander-in-chief  of  the 
army.  He  then  overthrew  Guerrera  in  favor  of 
Bustamente,  then  overthrew  Bustamente  in  fa- 
vor of  Pedraza,  and  in  1833  he  sat  .down  on 
Pedraza  and  modestly  made  himself  president. 

Then  he  told  the  dear  people  that  it  was  time 
to  elect  a new  president,  and  that  there  was  on- 
ly one  candidate,  and  the  first  two  letters  of  his 
name  were  Santa  Anna.  Incidentally,  he  reminded 
the  people  that  he  had  the  army  to  back  him. 

They  say  he  was  elected  by  a large  majority, 
(so  was  Cromwell.)  Having  settled  that  little 


136 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


matter,  he  went  over  in  Texas  and  chased  the 
Texas  army  all  over  the  state  for  two  years,  till 
he  got  it  corraled  in  a bend  of  the  San  Jacinto 
Fiver,  and  then  sat  down  to  supper,  but  during 
the  night  the  Texans  broke  out  and  to  their  great 
surprise  captured  Santa  Anna  himself.  He 
never  forgave  the  Texans  for  t liat. 

The  Texans  wanted  to  barbecue  him  just  as 
he  had  done  the  Texans  at  the  fall  of  the  Ala- 
mo in  San  Antonio,  and  the  massacre  at  Gali- 
ad,  but  General  Sam  Houston  saved  his  neck. 
He  went  back  home  in  disgrace  and  was  ban- 
ished, but  he  would  not  stay  banished.  He 
came  back  and  made  himself  president  in  1816. 

When  Texas  entered  the  Union  he  started 
over  to  chase  Texans  again,  but  at  the  battle  of 
Cerro  Gordo,  General  Scott  got  his  wooden  leg 
and  he  had  to  give  up  the  chase.  When  the 
French  put  Maximilian  on  the  Mexican  throne 
in  1861,  Santa  Anna  was  an  exile  in  the  West 
Indies.  He  wrote  a letter  of  congratulation  to 
Maximilian*  and  said,  “If  you  want  a man  to 
wipe  up  the  earth  with  General  Juarez’  army  I 
am  the  man  to  do  it.”  Maximilian  declined 
with  thanks.  Then  he  wrote  a letter  to  Juarez 
and  said,  “If  you  want  a man  to  wipe  up  the 
earth  wTith  that  French  army,  I am  the  man.” 
Juarez  declined  vrith  thanks.  Santa  Anna  had 
his  feelings  hurt,  so  he  came  home,  raised  an 
army  and  licked  both  Maximilian  and  Juarez 
for  snubbing  him.  In  1867,  Mexico  got  too  small 
for  him,  so  he  was  asked  to  consider  himself 
banished  for  an  indefinite  period. 

In  1874  he  asked  his  country  to  let  him  come 
home  to  die,  and  the  country  graciously  granted 
him  the  privilege  and  welcome,  if  he  wmild 


The  Shrine  of  Guadalupe.  137 

promise  to  die.  So  he  came  home  and  met  all 
the  agreement  and  died,  and  here  he  is. 

His  grave-stone  had  R.  I.  P.  and  the  hoy  said 
it  was,  ‘ ‘Let  her  rip,  ’ ’but  a few  had  ‘ ‘perpituidad’  ’ 
which  meant  that  they  had  paid  their  rent  till 
the  final  resurrection.  The  others  were,  “Rest 
in  Peace,”  for  five  years,  and  if  the  rent  is  not 
paid,  the  resurrection  takes  place  immediately. 

At  Saltillo,  the  cemetery  has  two  heaps  of 
grinning  skulls  and  bones  that  will  measure 
25,000  cubic  feet  of  dead  people  who  did  not 
pay  rent  and  were  evicted. 

A hundred  dollars  will  buy  the  little  word 
“perpituidad” on  your  tombstone,  which  will  pro- 
tect you  till  Gabriel  sounds  the  final  reveille. 

I went  back  to  my  gate-keeper  and  said: 
“Now  my  good  fellow,  laying  aside  all  jokes, 
what  has  Santa  Anna  done  so  noble  as  to  give 
him  a grave  on  this  hill?  ” 

He  said  this  hill  was  a regular  boom  in  real 
estate  and  that  all  his  renters  paid  gilt-edge 
prices  for  beds,  and  as  S.  A.  had  the  shekels, 
he  got  the  bed.  “ And  sir,  if  you  have  got  the 
rocks,  you  can  get  lodging  here.” 

I declined  with  thanks,  and  told  him  I al- 
ways carried  a Coffin  with  me. 

The  road  from  Mexico  to  Guadalupe  is  three 
miles  long,  and  has  twelve  stone  shrines  to 
commemorate  the  stations  of  the  cross.  All  the 
pilgrims  venerate  these  shrines  on  the  march  to 
Guadalupe.  When  Maximilian  was  meeting 
with  such  cool  reception  by  the  Mexicans,  he 
walked  the  whole  distance  barefooted,  in  Decem- 
ber, to  win  the  good  will  of  the  Mexicans  by 
apparent  conformity  to  their  customs.  The  Mex- 
icans took  him  down  to  Queretaro  and  shot  him. 


138  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

I have  gone  thus  minutely,  and  perhaps 
tediously,  into  the  details  of  this  legend  to  “find 
a moral  and  adorn  the  tale;”  to  expose  the 
fraudulent  practices  and  glaring  deceit  which 
the  priest-hood  has  foisted  upon  the  ignorant 
people.  Whenever  their  hold  upon  the  people 
seems  to  weaken,  a cock-and-bull  story  like  the 
one  just  told  will  awe  the  superstitious  people 
by  thousands  to  the  rescue.  Think  of  that 
humbug  when  the  water  was  four  years  falling, 
and  then  the  image  getting  the  credit  for  it ! 

As  a matter  of  fact,  Mexico  City  was  built 
upon  an  island  only  two  feet  higher  than  Lake 
Texcoco,  a salt  lake  with  no  outlet,  and  both 
lake  and  city  are  in  a crater,  and  all  the  water 
that  falls  in  that  forty  mile  valley  must  remain 
until  evaporated,  even  though  it  takes  four 
years  to  lower  the  height  of  a broken  cloud-burst. 
After  the  water  has  evaporated  to  its  usual  level, 
why,  the  “Virgin  lowered  the  water.” 

Every  priest  in  Mexico  knows  the  geography 
of  the  valley  and  why  the  lake  is  salt,  and  why 
inundations  take  place  even  today  in  the  prin- 
cipal streets  of  the  city.  In  the  light  of  this 
knowledge,  their  duping  practices  seem  more 
reprehensible.  Such  is  their  hold,  however, 
that  since  the  church  and  state  have  been  sep- 
arated by  law,  several  revolutions  have  been 
threatened  because  the  state  has  attempted  to 
interdict  some  of  the  senseless  customs  of  the 
fiestas.  Even  within  the  last  six  years,  the 
state  proposed  to  put  restrictions  upon  some  of 
the  ceremonies  of  Guadalupe,  and  had  to  recall 
the  proposition  to  prevent  a revolution. 

It  is  encouraging  to  know  that  you  never  see 
an  intelligent  Mexican  making  a door-mat  of 


The  Shrine  of  Guadalupe.  139 

himself  before  these  shrines.  He  knows  it  is 
not  worship  as  well  as  the  priest,  but  there  are 
thousands  w’ho  are  yet  in  the  dark  and  the  only 
hope  of  the  priest-hood  is  continual  ignorance  of 
the  masses,  but  education  is  weakening  that 
every  year.  It  is  said  that  when  an  Indian 
earns  two  dollars,  he  gives  one  to  the  priest, 
forty-five  cents  for  pulque,  and  supports  his 
family  with  the  remainder.  As  bad  as  that  may 
look  in  print,  I can  say  it  is  not  far  from  an 
actual  fact.  Stand  in  front  of  that  four  million 
dollar  church  with  all  its  useless  finery,  and 
then  gaze  at  the  thousands  of  beggars  that 
crowd  its  steps  and  overflow  to  the  street,  who 
have  to  sit  down  to  hide  their  nakedness  and  to 
better  support  their  weak  stomachs,  and  draw 
your  own  conclusion.  And  who  ever  heard  of  a 
Mexican  church  supporting  a charity  or  raising 
a poor  fund?  Not  I,  and  I have  seen  all  of  it. 
If  these  people  had  one  tenth  of  the  intelligence 
of  the  French  Communes,  they  would  walk  into 
those  churches  and  have  a grand  lottery  draw- 
ing with  no  blanks. 

As  I have  seen  it,  the  whole  thing  is  a whited 
sepulcher.  I mingled  with  ten  thousand  French 
on  July  14  when  they  celebrated  the  fall  of  the 
Bastile,  and  sang  with  them  the  Marseillaise, 
not  because  I was  French,  but  because  it  was  an 
effort  and  a successful  one  of  establishing  in- 
dividual freedom ; and  it  pleased  me,  and  I 
wondered  when  I might  join  with  Mexico  and 
help  them  sing  La  Golondrina  and  celebrate  the 
Fall  of  Guadalupe. 

Old  Cato’s  climax  in  his  Roman  speech-mak- 
ing could  well  be  paraphrased  for  the  nineteenth 
century,  and  when  thinking  of  the  incubus  of 


140  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

Mexican  progress,  would  fit  well  with  a change 
of  one  word  when  we  say: 

“ Carthago  delenda  est 


CHAPTER  IX. 

PUBLIC  BUILDINGS. 

WHERE  once  stood  the  Palace  of 
Montezuma,  now  stands  the  national 
Palace.  It  occupies  the  entire  east- 
ern side  of  the  Plaza  Mayor,  with  a frontage  of 
675  feet,  and  was  built  in  1692.  It  is  open  to 
the  public  all  day  long. 

On  the  ground  floor  of  the  plaza  front  are  the 
barracks.  On  the  second  are  the  President’s 
chambers  and  those  occupied  by  the  Spanish 
Viceroys  and  the  Austrian  usurper,  Maximilian. 

At  the  extreme  front  is  the  Ambassadors’ 
Hall,  so  long  that  the  President  at  one  end  in 
his  chair  of  state  seems  but  a pigmy,  and  so 
narrow  that  three  persons  with  outstretched 
hands  can  touch  either  wall.  The  idea  of 
spacious  halls  seems  never  to  have  entered  the 
Mexican’s  head.  Huge  buildings  they  have, 
but  they  are  only  a succession  of  rooms  whose 
dimensions  depend  upon,  the  usual  length  of 
building  timbers,  which  is  never  over  twenty 
feet.  It  seems  easy  to  connect  the  joists  on 
supporting  pillars  and  enlarge  the  room,  but, 
“We  have  always  done  this  way.”  So  the 
Ambassadors’  Hall  has  a probable  length  of  300 
feet,  and  an  actual  width  of  about  twenty. 

At  the  Southern  end  is  a raised  dais  where  the 


in 


142 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


President  presides  ; at  the  other,  under  a canopy 
are  two  magnificent  state  chairs.  One  was  the 
property  of  Cortez,  and  has  his  name  on  the  back 
in  pure  gold,  and  the  date  1531.  It  is  in  excel- 
lent repair,  since  its  construction  was  entirely 
of  metal  covered  with  brocade,  and  one  might 
doubt  its  antiquity  were  not  the  ear  marks  of 
old  Spain  everywhere  visible  in  all  its  work- 
manship, even  in  its  coat-of-arms.  The  other 
is  covered  entirely  with  pure  gold  and  is  the 
chair  of  state  of  the  President,  and  must  be 
worth  $20,000  if  appearances  comport  with  the 
actual  value  of  gold.  Just  opposite  this  chair 
is  a painting  fifteen  by  thirty  feet,  depicting 
the  great  battle  of  Puebla  when  President  Diaz 
first  won  his  spurs  in  defeating  the  French  army. 
An  old  grizzled  veteran  who  fought  in  the  battle 
will  point  out  the  notables  in  the  picture,  not 
omitting  his  own  which  stands  to  the  left  of 
the  President. 

On  the  same  wall  hang  the  pictures  of  George 
Washington  and  the  leaders  of  Mexican  Inde- 
pendence, Iturbide,  Hidalgo  and  Morelos.  There 
is  no  room  closed  to  the  visitor,  so  we  visit  the 
President’s  barber  shop,  reception  room,  library 
and  the  Hydrographic  office  where  maps  and 
charts  are  being  made.  All  these  rooms  are 
furnished  differently,  and  are  as  elegant  and 
comfortable  as  even  a president  could  wish. 
Nearby  is  the  treasurer’s  office,  and  how  my 
feet  clogged  when  I tried  to  go  by ! I just  want 
to  change  money  all  the  time ; I know  of  no 
better  way  to  get  rich  than  to  change  money. 
Hand  over  one  of  Uncle  Samuel’s  ten-dollar  bills, 
and  get  eighteen  dollars  and  sixty  cents  back, 
is  just  doubling  your  money  as  fast  as  you  can 


Public  Buildings . 


143 


stow  it  away.  It  beats  the  lottery  business  all 
to  pieces.  So  when  I passed  by  the  treasurer’s 
office  I wanted  to  change  money,  but  I was 
loaded  down  at  that  moment  and  could  not. 
When  you  step  into  a restaurant  and  give  a 
U.  S.  dollar  for  your  dinner  and  get  your  dinner 
and  another  dollar  in  change,  you  want  to  eat 
some  more. 

In  the  courtyard  is  a curious  plant  that  has  a 
flower  exactly  in  imitation  of  the  human  hand 
with  all  its  fingers.  It  is  the  cheirostemon 
plaxanifolium  or  hand  tree.  Only  three  specimens 
exist  in  Mexico.  As  all  the  public  buildings 
are  under  one  roof,  we  soon  find  ourselves  at 
the  Post  Office  with  its  seven. days  wonders.  No 
one  goes  to  the  window  and  inflicts  upon  the 
unoffending  young  lady  that  much  abused  old 
legend,  “ Is  there  a letter  here  for  me?  ” O no, 
that  is  not  the  style.  When  the  mail  arrives, 
the  letters  are  arranged  alphabetically  and 
numbered  consecutively,  then  the  list  is  type- 
written and  posted  on  the  bulletin  board,  where 
he  who  runs  may  read.  Beginning  with  No.  1 
on  the  first  day  of  the  month,  the  numbers  run 
to  the  end  of  the  month  and  start  over.  The 
foreign  list  is  published  separate  from  the  native. 
If  you  find  your  name  on  the  bulletin  you  pass' 
to  the  window  and  call  for  date  and  number 
only,  and  a book  inside  has  a duplicate  list. 
The  letter  is  handed  you,  and  you  sign  your 
name  opposite  the  number  of  the  letter,  giving 
street,  number  and  hotel.  At  the  same  time  a 
policeman  stands  at  your  elbow,  scrutinizing  all 
persons  and  their  handwriting,  and  qualifying 
himself  to  find  you  again  if  necessary  in  case  of 
forgery.  To  an  American  the  system  may  seem 


144  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

cumbersome,  but  he  must  remember  that  he  is  in 
a country  where  letters  to  the  United  States  cost 
five  cents,  and  I have  seen  domestic  letters  from 
one  state  to  the  other  cost  ten  cents,  as  much  as 
many  people  earn,  so  there  is  not  much  letter 
writing. 

Then  it  has  its  advantage.  Every  time  a 
clerk  is  called  to  the  window,  she  knows  there 
is  a letter  needed,  and  it  saves  the  endless  “yes, 
no,  yes,  no”  all  day  long,  and  the  sorting  of 
hundreds  of  letters  to  look  for  the  name  of  a 
person  who  is  not  expecting  a letter  at  all,  “ but 
just  thought  I would  ask  you.’’  The  system  is 
infinitely  better  than  that  in  Texas  towns  with 
a Mexican  population.  No  Mexican  signs  his 
name  without  a flourish  which  obscures  the 
name  entirely  sometimes,  and  besides,  the  Mex- 
ican names  have  a way  of  spelling  themselves 
different  from  the  pronunciation. 

The  Texas  post-mistress  lumps  all  Mexican 
mail  in  one  box,  and  when  a Mexican  shows  his 
head  at  the  window  she  hands  him  all  the 
Spanish  literature  on  hand,  and  he  takes  what 
he  wishes.  If  he  is  dishonest,  he  can  purloin 
any  mail  he  sees  fit.  The  Mexican  officials  are 
very  kind,  and  always  try  to  keep  a clerk  who 
knows  English.  Of  course  she  is  always  out 
when  you  need  her  most,  but  that  does  not  de- 
tract from  their  good  intentions ; but  the  Spanish 
language  is  so  easy  a person  can  learn  a hundred 
words  a day,  and  if  he  knows  Latin  he  has 
nearly  half  the  language  to  start  with. 

Next  door  to  the  Post  Office  is  the  National 
Museum,  the  most  wonderful  repository  in 
America,  where  ancient  Mayan,  Aztec  and 
Toltec  relics  lie  side  by  side  with  the  civiliza- 


Public  Buildings . 


145 


tion  of  today.  Here  are  gods  without  number 
and  idols  by  the  thousand. 

Strangest  among  these  symbols  is  the  ever- 
present serpent,  that  subtile  being  that  has  left 
its  stamp  in  the  mythology  of  the  old  world. 
Wherever  native  religions  have  had  their  sway, 
this  symbol  is  certain  to  appear.  It  appears  in 
Egypt,  Greece,  Assyria  and  among  the  super- 
stitions of  the  Celts,  Hindoos  and  Chinese,  and 
here  upon  these  ancient  idols  he  is  carved  upon 
porphyry  and  granite  in  natural  size  and  heroic 
dimensions,  but  always  in  coil,  with  the  rattle- 
snake fangs  and  toil  conspicuous. 

Here  is  also  the  Aztec  sacrificial  stone  of 
basalt,  nine  feet  in  diameter  and  three  feet 
thick,  within  whose  bloody  arms,  from  Spanish 
authority,  twenty-thousand  victims  were  an- 
nually offered  up.  All  of  the  Spanish  under 
Cortez  would  have  been  killed  upon  that  awful 
retreat  of  Noche  Triste,  were  it  not  for  the  zeal 
of  the  Mexicans  to  capture  them  alive  to  offer 
as  sacrifice  rather  than  kill  them  in  battle.  The 
central  figure  of  all  this  interesting  collection  is 
the  calendar  stone  upon  whose  mysterious  records 
the  scholars  of  Europe  and  America  have  labored 
with  only  partial  success.  The  stone  is  circular, 
is  hewn  from  a solid  piece  of  porphyry,  and 
weighs  fifty  tons.  How  it  ever  reached  this 
island  is  a mystery,  when  the  people  had  no 
beasts  of  burden;  how  it  was  carved  is  a mystery 
as  the  people  did  not  know  iron.  The  greatest 
wonder  is  the  inscription  which  accurately 
records  the  length  of  the  solar,  lunar  and  siderial 
year,  calculated  eclipses,  and  is  a more  perfect 
calendar  than  any  European  country  possesses. 

From  this  stone  we  learn  that  the  Aztecs  di- 


146 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


vided  the  year  into  365  days;  these  were  divided 
into  18  months  of  20  days  each,  and,  like  the 
ancient  Egyptians,  they  had  5 complementary 
days  to  make  out  365.  But  the  year  is  composed 
of  six  hours  more  than  365  days,  and  in  America 
we  add  the  six  hours  every  four  years  and  make 
leap-year.  The  Aztecs  waited  52  years,  and 
then  interposed  13  days,  or  rather  12^,  which 
brought  the  length  of  their  tropical  year 
to  within  the  smallest  fraction  of  the  figures  of 
our  most  skillful  astronomers.  Like  the  Per- 
sians and  Egyptians,  a cycle  of  52  years  was 
represented  by  a serpent,  so  prominent  in  my- 
thology. 

This  interpolation  of  25  days  in  every  104 
years  showed  a nicer  adjustment  of  civil  to  solar 
time  than  that  presented  by  any  European  cal- 
endar, since  more  than  five  centuries  must  elapse 
before  the  loss  of  an  entire  day.  Their  astro- 
logical year  "was  divided  into  months  of  13 
days  each,  and  there  were  13  years  in  their 
indications  which  contained  each  365  periods  of 
13  days  each.  It  is  also  curious  that  their  num- 
ber of  lunar  months  of  13  days  each  vrere  con- 
tained in  a cycle  of  52  years  with  the  interpolation 
of  13  days  (12-|)  should  correspond  exactly  with 
the  Great  Sotliic  period  of  the  Egyptians,  viz : 
1461.  By  means  of  this  calendar,  the  priests 
kept  their  own  records,  regulated  the  festivals 
and  sacrifices,  and  made  all  their  astronomical 
calculations.  They  had  the  means  of  setting 
the  hours  with  precision ; the  periods  of  the 
solstices  and  equinoxes  and  the  transit  of  the 
sun  across  the  zenith  of  Mexico.  This  stone 
was  dug  up  in  the  great  square  in  1790  where  it 
had  lain  buried  since  the  Conquest  in  1520,  but 


Public  Buildings. 


147 


its  high  scientific  deductions  are  out  of  all  pro- 
portion to  the  advance  of  the  Aztec  in  other 
branches  of  learning,  since  the  stone  is  more 
exact  today  than  any  European  calendar  in 
existence,  therefore  it  must  have  been  made  by 
another  race.  The  characters  are  in  the  Toltec 
language,  but  there  are  many  points  of  it  which 
the  Toltecs  copied  from  the  Mayas  of  Yucatan, 
and  the  Mayas  seem  to  have  copied  from  the 
Egyptians,  of  which  we  shall  speak  in  another 
chapter. 

There  are  other  relics  more  ancient  than  the 
Calendar  Stone,  and  others  more  recent.  There 
is  the  ideographic  picture-writing,  through  which 
we  learn  the  history  of  the  race  previous  to  the 
Conquest.  Here  is  Montezuma’s  shield,  the 
'armor  worn  by  Cortez  in  the  Conquest,  his  battle- 
flag,  the  statue  of  the  war  god  Huitzilopochtle, 
Tula  monoliths,  the  Goddess  of  Water,  Palenque 
cross,  Chacmol,  and  the  finest  carriage  in  the 
world,  built  by  Maximilian  for  his  Mexican 
capital.  The  body  is  painted  red,  the  wheels 
are  gilded,  and  the  interior  is  lined  with  white 
silk  brocade,  heavily  trimmed  with  silver  and 
gold  thread. 

In  Ethnology  and  Zoology  the  exhibits  would 
require  days  to  see.  The  museum  is  open  every 
day  but  Saturday,  and  is  thronged  ever.  The 
Indians  never  tire  gazing  on  the  scenes  which 
recall  the  times  when  they  were  masters.  In 
the  midst  of  the  quadrangle  is  a beautiful  garden 
of  rare  plants  and  tall  palms. 

Soldiers  guard  the  entrance  and  police  wel- 
come you  and  ask  for  your  camera  and  umbrellas, 
and  as  your  party  starts,  a uniformed  lad  will 
fall  in  at  your  heel,  attach  himself  to  your 


148  Land  Without  Chimneys . 

shadow  and  never  leave  you  till  you  descend 
the  steps  to  the  exit.  He  does  not  seek  your 
companionship  necessarily  for  publication,  “but 
as  an  evidence  of  good  faith.”  He  is  not  in- 
trusive nor  garrulous;  his  duty  is  simply  to 
be  ever  present.  With  tens  of  thousands  of 
valuable  relics  in  easy  reach,  probably  they  are 
acting  wisely  upon  past  experience. 

The  next  door  leads  to  San  Carlos,  the  Na- 
tional Art  Gallery.  Here  are  the  famous  paint- 
ings of  “ Padre  Los  Casas,  ” “ The  Deluge,  ” and 
Murillo’s  “ San  Juan  de  Dios”  and  “ The  Lost 
Sheep.”  In  the  fourth  and  fifth  salons  are  the 
works  of  native  Mexicans,  and  their  love  to  old 
Spain  is  shown  by  their  paintings ; whole  sides 
of  the  salons  are  given  to  the  cruel  tale  of  the 
Conquest  and  the  Inquisition : Spanish  Cava- 
liers, holding  up  the  cross  in  one  hand  and  the 
drawn  sword  in  the  other,  and  cutting  down  the 
ignorant  natives  who  would  not  confess  the 
Virgin ; the  death  of  Montezuma,  surrounded 
by  heaps  of  gold  so  gluttonously  hoarded  by  the 
Spaniards;  the  fate  of  his  brother,  Guate- 
motzin,  the  last  of  the  Aztec  chieftains,  whose 
feet  are  held  in  the  fire  by  his  Christian  torturers, 
to  disclose  his  hidden  treasures,  and  the  haughty 
chieftain  still  kept  his  heroic  mien  without  a 
murmur. 

One  of  his  generals  who  was  similarly  tortured 
appealed  to  him.  Turning  a look  of  scorn  upon 
him  Guatemotzin  replied:  “And  say,  am  I on  a 
bed  of  roses?  ” There  is  a weird  fascination 
about  the  paintings  that  makes  you  feel  that  the 
paintings  have  just  stepped  from  the  pages  of 
Prescott’s  Conquest  of  Mexico.  It  is  the  Cham- 
ber of  Horrors  where  the  Spanish  Inquisition  is 


Public  Buildings. 


149 


depicted  by  men  who  knew.  Overhead  are 
scores  of  medallions  of  famous  men  of  Mexican 
birth,  and  beneath  each  a famous  picture. 
Leaving  this  salon  we  come  to  a well  lighted  hall 
with  several  hundred  easels  and  folding  stools. 
This  is  the  instruction  room,  and  is  filled  with 
students  and  models  and  casts  and  charts,  where 
lessons  are  given  to  all  who  apply  without  re- 
gard to  creed  or  race  or  color.  The  Color  Line 
has  no  place  in  Mexico.  Beneath  the  salon  are 
halls  filled  with  statuary,  where  clay  modeling 
and  sculpture  is  taught,  and  as  you  leave  with 
weary  limb  you  are  convinced  that  it  is  in  truth 
a National  Academy. 

Then  there  is  the  Mineria,  the  School  of 
Engineering . and  Mines,  on  San  Andres  and 
Betlemita  streets.  It  cost  a million  and  a half 
of  dollars,  and  was  the  work  of  the  sculptor 
and  architect,  Tolsa.  It  contains  rich  collec- 
tions of  geological  and  minerological  specimens, 
and  a meteorological  observatory,  also  a fossil  of 
the  Pleiocene  horse  of  three  toes.  The  mint  on 
Apartado  Street  struck  its  first  coin  in  1585,  and 
since  then  the  coins  of  republics,  empires  and 
dictatorships  have  run  from  it  in  a constant 
stream  of  gold  and  silver  to  the  enormous  sum 
of  $2,200,000,000. 

Then  there  is  the  National  Library  and  the 
Preparatory  School  on  San  Ildefonso  Street, 
with  a thousand  students  and  fine  equipment 
and  botanical  garden.  Public  instruction  is 
free  and  gratuitous  in  every  respect,  without 
regard  to  race  or  religion. 

Just  beyond  the  Cathedral  is  a National 
Pawnshop,  Monte  de  Piedad,  ‘ ‘ Mountain  of 
Mercy.”  It  was  founded  more  than  a hundred 


150  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

years  ago  by  Count  Regia,  the  owner  of  the 
famous  silver-mine  of  Real  de  Monte,  who  gave 
three  hundred  thousand  dollars  for  the  purpose, 
so  that  the  poor  and  needy  could  get  money  on 
their  belongings  at  reasonable  interest.  Any 
article  deposited  is  valued  by  two  disinterested 
parties,  and  three-fourths  of  its  value  is 
promptly  advanced.  If  the  party  ceases  to  pay 
interest  on  the  loan,  the  article  is  kept  six 
months  longer,  and  then  exposed  for  sale.  If 
not  sold  in  the  next  six  months,  it  is  sold  at 
public  auction,  and  all  that  is  realized  from  the 
sale  above  the  original  pawn,  is  placed  to  the 
borrower’s  credit.  If  this  money  is  not  called 
for  in  a specified  time,  it  reverts  to  the  bank  of 
the  institution.  This  is  a government  insti- 
tution, and  has  entirely  broken  up  the  small 
pawn-shops  that  charge  unreasonable  interest. 
The  rate  of  interest  is  never  raised,  and  it  lends 
a million  dollars  a year,  and  has  fifty  thousand 
customers.  One  dollar  is  the  smallest  sum 
loaned,  and  ten  thousand  the  largest,  and  the 
loans  are  about  three  hundred  daily.  About 
one-third  of  the  articles  pawned  are  never  re- 
deemed, and  tourists  can  find  some  wonderful 
bargains  here.  The  Diamond  snuff-box  pre- 
sented Santa  Anna  when  he  was  Dictator  is  here. 
$25,000  will  buy  the  little  trifle. 

In  all  the  wars  and  revolutions  this  old  city 
has  seen,  all  parties  have  respected  this  grand 
institution,  with  one  exception  : When  Gonzales 
was  president  in  1884,  he  ran  so  short  of  money, 
that  to  keep  the  National  credit,  he  levied  upon 
its  treasury.  An  English  syndicate  with  a 
capital  of  $25,000,000  has  recently  bought  the 


Public  Buildings . 


151 


institution  for  one  million,  and  will  still  carry 
on  the  banking  business. 

Chapultepec,  “The  hill  of  the  Grass-hopper,  ” 
is  the  president’s  White  House  and  the  West 
Point  of  Mexico.  It  is  three  miles  from  the 
city,  and  is  situated  upon  a perpendicular  rock, 
two  hundred  feet  high,  and  was  a veritable 
Gibraltar  in  war  times  when  cannon  were  un- 
known. This  castle  was  the  pride  and  ambition 
of  Carlotta,  the  wife  of  Maximilian,  and  she 
spent  half  a million  dollars  on  the  interior  furn- 
ishings. The  interior  is  remodeled  on  the  Pom- 
peiian style.  The  castle  is  reached  by  a winding 
road  around  the  hill,  and  also  by  a secret  cavern 
through  the  hill.  On  the  rock  in  front  are  the 
engraved  pictures  of  Montezuma  I.  and  his  suc- 
cessor. In  the  rear  is  the  immense  park  of 
ahuehuete  or  cypress  trees,  next  in  size  to  the 
redwoods  of  California.  One  of  these  venerable 
monarchs  is  fifty  feet  in  circumference  and  one 
hundred  and  seventy  feet  high,  under  which 
was  Montezuma’s  favorite  seat.  This  park 
measures  two  miles  in  length,  and  reaches  to 
Molino  del  Rey,  “The  King’s  Mill,”  which 
figured  in  the  war  with  the  United  States. 
It  is  now  the  National  Arsenal. 

The  Military  Academy  is  at  Chapultepec,  and 
the  whole  hill  is  a military  camp.  From  the 
citadel  a view  can  be  had  of  the  whole  valley  of 
Mexico,  forty  miles  long  and  thirty  wide.  To 
the  left  of  the  road  leading  up  to  the  castle  is  a 
cave,  closed  with  an  iron  gate.  This  is  said  to 
have  been  the  treasure  house  of  both  Montezuma 
and  Cortez.  A stairway  leads  up  through  the 
hill  to  the  castle.  A large  collection  of  animals 
are  in  the  park  and  a beautiful  flower  garden. 


152 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


From  here  leads  an  aqueduct  that  supplies  the 
city  with  water,  just  as  it  did  before  the  Con- 
quest. Here  was  made  the  last  stand  against 
the  American  army  under  General  Pillow,  and 
U.  S.  Grant  was  one  of  the  first  to  mount  the 
hill,  and  the  flower  of  the  cadet  army  was  slain 
here,  and  they  were  only  boys.  The  occasion 
has  been  remembered  by  the  government,  and 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill  stands  a large  monument 
with  the  names  of  all  the  boys  who  fell.  On 
one  side  is  this  inscription : 

“DEDICATED  TO  THE  STUDENTS 
WHO  FELL 

IN  DEFENDING  THEIR  COUNTRY  AGAINST 
THE  AMERICAN  INVASION.” 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  PASEO  AND  BULL-EIGHT. 

HE  City  of  Mexico  with  its  350,000  in- 


habitants is  a disappointment  to  the 


JL-  foreigner.  The  business  portion  looks 
just  like  an  American  city.  All  the  Mexican 
cities  are  paved  with  cobble  stones,  with  the 
street  lowest  in  the  center,  which  is  the  gutter. 
Here  the  streets  are  broad,  cross  at  right  angles, 
high  in  the  middle  with  gutters  next  the  side- 
walk, and  are  paved  with  asphalt.  The  houses 
are  four  story,  and  the  shops  have  glass  show 
windows,  very  unusual  in  Mexico.  The  reason 
is,  this  is  not  a Mexican  city.  It  was  built  by 
foreigners  and  is  now  run  by  foreigners. 

On  July  14,  when  the  French  celebrated  the 
Fall  of  the  Bastile,  four-fifths  of  the  business 
houses  were  draped  in  the  tri-color  of  France. 
With  twenty-five  foreign  consuls,  six  vice  con- 
suls, and  fourteen  foreign  ministers,  each  with 
its  attaches  and  dependencies,  it  is  no  winder 
the  city’s  local  ear-mark  is  lost  in  this  assembly 
of  foreigners;  and,  were  it  not  for  the  languages 
of  Spanish  and  French  which  fall  so  musically 
on  the  ear,  the  scene  would  not  be  very  different 
from  a street  in  Chicago,  if  we  eliminate  the 
vehicles.  It  is  due  the  foreign  element  that  the 
city  has  the  finest  boulevard  in  America. 


158 


154 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


LA  PASEO  DE  LA  REFORMA. 

The  Latin  American  races  are  very  fond  of 
carriage-driving,  and  one  of  the  first  signs  of 
wealth  is  the  laying  out  of  the  promenade  where 
the  “ four  hundred”  may  drive  at  the  fashionable 
hour.  Before  the  present  Paseo  was  built,  the 
fashionable  drives  were  Paseo  de  La  Viga  and 
Paseo  de  Bucareli.  Every  afternoon,  then  as 
now,  were  to  be  seen  two  long  rows  of  carriages 
with  crowds  of  gentlemen  on  horse-back  and 
multitudes  of  foot  passengers. 

The  Paseo  de  Bucareli,  or  Paseo  Nuevo,  is  in 
the  southwestern  part  of  the  city.  It  was  opened 
Nov.  4,  1778,  by  Don  Antonio  Maria  de  Bucareli, 
the  viceroy.  It  has  the  same  starting  point  as 
La  Reforma,  the  circular  plazuela  in  which 
stands  the  statue  of  Charles  IV.  and  extends 
half  a mile  almost  due  south  to  the  Garita  de 
Belem.  In  the  glorieta  near  the  city  gate,  is 
what  was  once  a handsome  fountain,  surmounted 
by  a statue  of  Victory,  erected  in  1829  in  honor 
of  Guerrero,  and  which  was  originally  gilded. 
For  promenading,  the  Paseo  is  now  practically 
deserted,  but  is  becoming  a fashionable  resi- 
dence section. 

The  glories  of  Paseo  de  La  Viga  have  indeed 
departed.  The  once  famous  and  fashionable 
drive  is  almost  deserted,  save  during  Lent  when 
an  old  custom  prescribes  that  fashion  shall,  air 
itself  there.  It  traverses  the  bank  of  La  Viga 
canal  for  many  miles,  past  the  chinampas  or 
floating  gardens,  through  a double  avenue  of 
shade  trees,  where  continual  processions  of 
Indians  are  seen  from  the  Lake  country,  pad- 
dling to  market  with  canoes  laden  to  the  guards 
with  vegetables,  fruits  and  flowers. 


The  Paseo  and  Bull-Fight.  155 

But  Fashion  is  a tyrannical  mistress,  and  she 
decrees  that  Paseo  de  La  Reforma  be  the  only 
place  to  see  and  be  seen.  It  leads  from  the 
statue  of  Charles  IV.  to  the  gate  of  Chapultepec, 
two  miles  and  a half.  It  is  laid  with  smooth 
asphalt,  and  has  a uniform  width  of  two  hun- 
dred feet. 

It  has  double  avenues  of  shade  trees  on  each 
side,  with  broad  foot  ways  on  the  side,  lined 
with  seats  for  the  weary.  At  certain  intervals, 
the  street  widens  into  glorietas,  or  circles,  four 
hundred  feet  in  diameter.  The  street  passes  on 
each  side  of  these  glorietas  and  leaves  them  as 
green  islands  with  beautiful  flowers  and  stat- 
uary. There  are  six  of  these  glorietas  and  more 
are  to  be  added. 

All  along  the  curbing  of  the  Paseo,  are  statues 
of  men  famous  in  Mexican  history,  and  are 
contributed  by  different  states.  At  the  entrance 
to  the  Paseo  is  the  equestrian  statue  of  Charles 
IY.  of  colossal  size. 

Thirty  tons  of  metal  were  used  in  the  casting, 
and  it  is  the  largest  single  casting  in  the  world. 
Humboldt  says  it  has  but  one  superior,  that  of 
Marcus  Aurelius. 

A royal  order  issued  Nov.  BO,  1795,  granted 
to  the  Viceroy  Marquis  de  Branceforte  to  erect 
this  statue  in  the  Plaza  Mayor.  The  commission 
was  given  to  the  sculptor  Don  Manuel  Tosta, 
and  the  casting  in  bronze  to  Don  Salvador  de  la 
Yega.  The  mold  and  furnaces  were  made  ready 
in  the  garden  of  San  Gregorio,  and  after  two 
days  spent  in  fusing  the  mass,  the  cast  was  made 
at  6 a.  m.  Aug.  4,  1802.  The  casting,  remark- 
able alike  for  being  in  a single  piece,  and  for 
being  the  first  important  piece  of  bronze 


156  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

executed  in  America,  came  out  of  the  mold 
complete  and  without  defect.  In  1803,  it  was 
erected  in  front  of  the  cathedral  where  now  is 
the  bandstand  of  the  Zocalo.  Here  it  remained 
till  1822  when  the  Mexicans  had  achieved  their 
independence,  and  the  feeling  against  Spain  was 
so  bitter  it  was  encased  in  a wooden  globe  and 
painted  blue,  but  was  finalty  placed  for  safety 
from  the  mob  in  the  patio  of  the  universitj^,  a 
comparatively  out-of-the-way  place.  Here  it 
remained  in  obscurity  till  1852  when  it  was  set 
up  in  the  commanding  position  it  now  occupies. 
The  height  of  horse  and  rider  is  fifteen  feet  nine 
inches.  The  king  is  dressed  in  classic  style, 
wearing  a laurel  wreath  and  raising  aloft  a 
scepter. 

On  both  sides  of  the  Paseo  at  its  entrance,  are 
colossal  figures  on  high  granite  pedestals  said 
to  represent  Aztec  warriors.  The  work  must 
have  been  done  by  Spaniards,  in  ridicule,  for  a 
more  hideous  pair  of  warriors  never  went  to  battle. 

The  first  glorieta  contains  Cordier’s  Colum- 
bus, one  of  the  most  admirable  and  artistic 
modern  statues  to  be  found  in  the  world.  This 
was  the  work  of  the  French  sculptor,  Cordier, 
and  was  erected  at  the  cost  of  Don  Antonio 
Escandon.  The  base  is  a platform  of  basalt, 
surrounded  by  an  iron  railing,  above  which  are 
five  lanterns.  From  the  base  arises  a square 
mass  of  red  marble  with  four  basso-relievos;  the 
arms  of  Columbus  with  garlands  of  laurel;  the 
rebuilding  the  monastery  of  La  Rabida;  the 
discovery  of  San  Salvador;  a fragment  of  a 
letter  from  Columbus  to  his  patron  Raphadi 
Sauris;  beneath  which  is  the  dedication  by 
Senor  Escandon. 


The  Paseo  and  Bull-Fight.  157 

Above  the  basso-relievos  and  surrounding  the 
pedestal,  are  four  life-size  figures  in  bronze,  of 
monks  and  missionaries,  and  crowning  the  whole 
upon  the  top  of  a pedestal  of  red  marble  is  the 
figure  of  Columbus,  drawing  aside  the  veil 
which  hides  the  new  world. 

In  the  next  glorieta  is  Cuauhtemoc,  a worthy 
companion  of  Columbus,  and  is  the  work  of 
Don  Francisco  Jiminez.  The  statue  of  the  great 
warrior  king  is  magnificent,  as  he  appears 
hurling  defiance  at  his  country’s  enemies.  The 
base  contains  some  fine  basso-relievos,  one  rep- 
resenting the  torture  of  Cuauhtemoc  (also 
spelled  Guatemotzin)  by  the  cruel  Spaniards. 
The  fretting  around  the  structure  is  all  after 
the  old  Aztec  pattern,  and  the  trophies  of  Indian 
arms  and  insignia  are  all  intensely  appropriate 
to  the  warrior  who  preferred  death  of  his  whole 
people  to  the  surrender  of  his  city  to  the  Span- 
iards. Facing  the  Paseo  is  the  following  in- 
scription: “ A la  memoria  de  Cuauhtemoc  y 

de  los  Guerreras  que  Combatieron  Heroicamente 
en  Defensa  de  su  P atria  M.  D.  XX/.” 

Mexico  is  indebted  to  Maximilian  and  his 
wife  Carlotta  for  this  Paseo.  She  had  set  her 
heart  upon  a “Paseo  Imperaliz, ” and  Maximil- 
ian entered  heartily  into  the  scheme,  but  he 
did  not  live  to  complete  it.  His  idea  was  to  es- 
tablish a court  that  should  rival  any  in  Europe, 
and  he  had  already  introduced  titles  of  nobility. 

He  planned  to  create  a handsome  park  of 
Chapultepec,  with  lakes  and  streams  and  drives, 
with  deer  and  swans  and  all  the  other  nice 
things.  What  was  done  he  paid  for  out  of  his 
own  civil  lists,  and  he  intended  to  pay  for  it  all 
and  present  it  to  the  city.  The  Mexican  peo- 


158  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

pie  could  not  brook  a European  Emperor,  but 
they  all  loved  “Poor  Carlotta,”  and  as  she 
planned  the  Paseo,  every  year  they  add  some 
new  improvement  until  it  has  now  become  the 
glory  of  the  republic.  Every  addition  is  an 
evidence  of  good  taste,  and  Carlotta’s  park  idea 
is  already  planned.  From  the  last  glorieta  two 
roads  branching  to  Tacubaya  and  Tlaxpana  are 
being  prepared,  and  the  park  grounds  will  then 
extend  from  Molino  del  Rey  to  the  Exposition 
building,  three  miles. 

One  never  tires  of  sitting  on  this  boulevard 
and  viewing  the  motley  throng  as  it  passes  in  re- 
view, driving,  riding  or  promenading.  Ladies 
in  Parisian  bonnets  and  Spanish  mantillas;  the 
dashing  equestrian  rigged  in  the  paraphernalia 
of  Mexican  horsemanship,  or  breeched  and 
booted  after  the  manner  of  Rotten  Row  itself. 
Stately  vehicles  drawn  by  snow-white  mules; 
four-in-hands  tooled  along  in  the  most  approved 
European  style;  youthful  aristocrats  astride 
Lilliputian  ponies,  followed  by  liveried  servants; 
here  and  there  mounted  police  with  drawn  sabres, 
giving  an  air  of  old  world  formality  to  the  whole 
proceeding.  In  and  out  among  them  flash  the 
bicycles  ridden  by  men,  women  and  children 
from  all  civilized  countries;  the  kaleidoscope  of 
the  pedestrains,  dressed  in  their  peculiar  garb 
with  red  and  gray  and  black  rebosas , raven 
black  hair  exposed  to  view,  and  the  Indians 
from  the  mountains  in  their  severe  simplicity. 
The  procession  passes  up  the  right,  with  here 
and  there  a light  American  buggy,  or  a heavy- 
wheeled English  mail  phaeton  with  a real  live 
dude  at  the  front  holding  the  reins,' and  a 
liveried  flunkey  facing  behind  and  holding  a 


The  Paseo  and  Bull-Figlit.  159 

flaring  bouquet,  and,  after  reaching  Chapul tepee, 
it  comes  back  on  the  other  side,  leaving  the 
center  to  the  horsemen,  and  to  the  latter’s  dis- 
gust, the  bicycles. 

And  we  must  not  forget  the  centaurs,  the 
Mexican  horsemen ; rigged  out  in  all  the  silver 
ornaments  of  bridle  and  saddle  worth  more  than 
the  spirited  horse,  and  ten  thousand  people  to 
admire  them,  they  never  appear  to  better  ad- 
vantage than  when  exhibiting  on  the  Paseo. 
Spanish  and  Mexican  ladies  rarely  ride,  and 
when  they  do,  they  are  so  very  exclusive  they 
ride  in  closed  carriages.  At  the  glorietas  are 
stationed  military  bands  with  from  forty  to 
eighty  pieces  in  each,  and  the  procession  always 
exhibits  to  “slow  music.” 

Poor  Maximilian,  at  heart  a great  man,  but 
the  dupe  of  Europe,  planned  this  city  as  a 
king  and  died  as  a king.  Could  he  return  now, 
what  might  be  his  feelings  to  see  his  plans  car- 
ried out?  And  poor  Carlotta  ! the  idol  of  Mexico, 
a victim  of  circumstances,  has  never  forgotten 
that  fatal  day  when  Maximilian  was  shot  at 
Queretaro  and  the  flash  of  the  rifles  left  her  a 
queen  without  a throne  and  a wife  without  a 
husband.  To  this  day  she  drags  out  a miser- 
able existence  at  the  Austrian  capital,  a maniac 
that  has  spent  thirty  years  murmuring  and 
jibbering  his  name.  There  is  in  America  a 
miserable  lack  of  respect  to  kings,  be  they  never 
so  good  and  kind  and  great,  and  Mexico  was 
only  true  to  the  free  air  of  the  mountains  when 
she  refused  Maximilian.  Mountain-born  men 
will  always  be  free. 

BULL-FIGHTING. 

The  Aztec  in  his  palmy  day  offered  human 


160  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

sacrifice.  He  daily  made  war  upon  his  neigh- 
bors to  secure  the  victims,  and  crashing  his 
hands  in  gore  has  been  his  profession  for  six 
hundred  years ; this  is  why  bull-fighting  with 
its  fascination  and  danger  and  death  is  to  him 
so  dear. 

Every  Sunday  afternoon  and  every  feast-day 
is  given  up  to  this  bloody  pastime  and  every- 
body goes.  The  foreigner  goes  once,  sometimes 
twice,  but  rarely  three  times,  but  he  never  for- 
gets what  he  sees.  Four  dead  bulls,  three  dead 
horses,  from  one  to  three  maimed  or  dead  men 
is  the  possible  result  of  a Sunday’s  sport.  Each 
city  has  its  plaza  de  torus  or  bull-ring,  just  as 
we  have  theaters,  and  the  bull-fighters  go  from 
town  to  town  as  our  opera  companies.  The 
stars  of  the  company  are  the  swordsmen.  The 
bull-ring  is  a circular  amphitheater,  after  the 
manner  of  the  Roman  Coliseum,  and  will  seat 
from  four  to  twenty  thousand.  The  govern- 
ment takes  a strong  hand  in  lotteries  and  bull- 
fights, and  in  the  latter,  receives  twenty- one 
per  cent,  of  the  gate  receipts.  In  the  federal 
district,  the  secretary  of  the  republic  presides 
at  the  fight. 

Four  different  haciendas  are  licensed  by 
the  government  to  breed  bulls  for  fighting 
purposes,  Durango  and  Cazadero  being  the 
most  noted.  Poncama  Diaz,  a nephew  of  the 
president,  is  called  the  star  matador  of  the 
world,  and  owns  the  Bucarelli  bull-ring  in  the 
city,  which  is  capable  of  seating  20,000  people. 
The  arena  is  a circle  200  feet  in  diameter,  and 
open  to  the  sky.  Around  this  is  an  eight  foot 
wall  to  protect  the  people,  and  at  intervals 
along  this  wall  are  “escapes”  for  the  fighters 


The  Paseo  and  Bull-Fight.  161 

when  the  bulls  decide  there  is  not  enough  room 
in  the  ring.  Receding  from  the  ring  are  the 
tiers  of  seats  arranged  in  the  manner  of  a circus. 
Those  on  the  shady  side  usually  selling  for  a 
dollar,  while  the  “bleachers”  sell  for  25  or  37 
cents.  Over  these  seats  are  the  private  boxes, 
and  above  all  the  gallery  for  the  olla  podrida. 

An  ordinary  troupe  consists  of  two  matadores 
or  swordsmen,  four  banderilleros  or  dart  stickers, 
two  or  four  picadores  or  lancers,  and  the  laza- 
dores  who  lasso  and  drag  the  dead  animals  from 
the  ring.  The  program  usually  consists  of  the 
killing  of  four  bulls  in  an  hour,  with  sometimes 
an  extra.  The  president  of  the  function,  (every 
thing  here  is  a function)  may  reject  any  part  of 
the  performance  or  fine  any  member  who  com- 
mits a breach  of  ring  etiquette.  The  performance 
is  set  for  four  o’clock  and  is  always  the  same. 
The  crowd  waits,  grows  impatient,  the  band 
plays.  The  crowd  grows  more  impatient,  the 
band  plays  again — plays  all  the  time.  Finally  the 
judge  appears,  (every  function  must  have  a 
mediator  between  the  people  and  the  event)  and 
is  seated  in  his  decorated  box,  and  the  band 
plays  again. 

The  judge  makes  a sign  to  the  bugler  who 
blows  the  opening  of  the  gates,  through  which 
comes  a snow-white  horse  bearing  a rider  dressed 
in  green  and  gold,  with  knee  pants  and  silver 
buckles,  flowing  cape,  cocked  hat  and  waving 
plume.  This  is  the  president  of  the  company, 
and  he  begs  the  permission  and  approval  of  the 
fight.  The  judge  assents  and  throws  him  the 
keys  of  the  bull-ring,  (what  else  is  he  there  for?) 
and  the  rider  retires.  Again  the  bugler  blows 
and  the  company  enter  in  full  force,  and  the 


162  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

costume  of  each  is  worth  a thousand  dollars  in 
gold.  No  two  are  dressed  alike  as  to  color. 
Silk  jackets  that  reach  the  waist,  knee  pants 
and  silk  stockings  and  a cockade  hat,  all  pre- 
sent the  prismatic  color's  of  the  rainbow.  Around 
each  is  a Spanish  cloak,  held  around  the  waist 
with  the  left  hand.  As  they  make  their  bow  to 
the  audience,  the  cloak  is  let  loose  with  the  left 
hand  and  swings  around  gracefully  pendant 
from  the  left  shoulder. 

Again  the  bugle  blows,  and  through  the  open 
gate  a fierce  bull  from  the  mountain  is  ushered 
in.  As  he  passes  the  gate  a man  overhead 
thrusts  a steel  dart  into  his  shoulder,  and  on  the 
dart  is  a rosette  and  a silk  ribbon  bearing  the 
name  of  the  hacienda  whence  he  came.  Mad- 
dened by  the  wound  and  frightened  by  the  noise 
and  people,  he  seeks  the  cause,  and  sees  two 
horsemen  in  the  arena.  The  horse  is  blind- 
folded to  prevent  his  shying,  and  has  a piece  of 
sole-leather  covering  his  side  for  protection. 
The  horseman  has  a lance  and  endeavors  to 
thrust  it  into  his  shoulder  to  ward  him  off.  The 
lance  point  is  short  and  is  not  meant  to  do 
serious  harm,  but  to  wound  and  irritate  the  bull 
and  make  him  furious  for  the  final  battle. 
Sometimes  the  lance  fails  to  score,  sometimes  it 
holds  in  his  tough  hide  and  the  handle  breaks 
and  the  bull  buries  his  horns  in  the  horse’s  belly, 
and  hurls  both  horse  and  rider  in  the  air. 

The  horse  was  intended  for  the  sacrifice  from 
the  beginning,  and  this  was  a part  of  the  pro- 
gram. When  the  bull  has  killed  one  or  two 
horses,  he  is  encouraged  to  fight,  and  that  is 
just  what  the  whole  thing  is  for.  A man  with 
a red  flag  draws  the  bull’s  attention  to  the  other 


The  Paseo  and  Bull-Fight.  163 

side  while  the  dead  horse  is  dragged,  out,  and 
sometimes  a dead  man.  Again  the  bugle  blows 
and  the  ring  is  cleared,  and  two  banderilleros 
enter.  With  a red  flag  one  gets  the  bull’s  at- 
tention, and  a banderillero  runs  to  the  center. 
In  each  hand  he  holds  a banderilla,  a sharp  steel 
dart  about  a foot  long,  and  ornamented  with 
rosettes  and  streamers.  When  the  bull  charges, 
ho  must  reach  over  his  horns  and  plant  both  of 
his  banderillas  in  a shoulder  at  the  same  time. 
Sometimes  the  spread  of  horns  is  four  feet,  and 
the  banderillero  must  make  the  pass  and  escape 
in  a flash.  As  the  bull  makes  the  charge  in  a 
frenzied  run,  you  find  yourself  unconsciously 
rising  from  your  seat  in  anticipation  of  the 
almost  certain  death  of  the  man,  and  women 
who  see  it  for  the  first  time  usually  faint  and 
are  promptly  carried  out. 

Should  the  man  succeed  in  planting  the  ban- 
derillas, the  crowd  shower  cigars  and  flowers 
and  fans  upon  him  and  shout  bravo!  bravo! 
Should  the  bull  succeed  in  thrusting  his  horns 
through  the  man’s  equatorial  region  and  toss  him 
in  the  air,  the  crowd  shout  bravo  torus!  just  the 
same  and  cheer  and  whistle.  They  paid  their 
money  to  see  blood  and  what  does  it  matter  if  it 
be  man  or  bull’s?  At  this  point  it  is  proper  for 
the  American  ladies  to  faint  and  come  to  and 
hurry  out,  while  the  Mexicans  laugh  at  people 
who  leave  before  the  fun  begins.  The  idea  of 
fainting  for  such  a small  thing ! The  dead  man 
is  carried  out  and  the  other  banderillero  takes 
his  place,  and  as  the  bull  charges  he  must  plant 
his  banderillas  in  the  other  shoulder.  Some- 
times the  experts  vary  the  program  by  sitting  in  a 
chair  until  the  bull  is  within  six  feet  of  him,  and 


164 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


then  rises  and  makes  his  thrust  in  time  to  escape, 
and  the  bull  goes  off  writhing  in  pain  and  try- 
ing to  shake  the  cruel  darts  from  his  shoulder. 

Sometimes  a detachable  rosette  is  thrust  be- 
tween his  eyes  as  he  charges,  and  the  stream  of 
blood  that  follows  betrays  the  steel  point  be- 
hind the  beautiful  rosette.  Then  men  with  red 
flags  will  tantalize  him.  They  stand  behind  the 
flag,  and  as  the  bull  charges  the  men  step  aside, 
holding  the  flag  at  arm’s  length  in  the  same 
place,  and  the  bull  passes  under  the  flag  into 
empty  air,  where  the  man  was.  Quick  as  a cat 
he  detects  the  fraud  and  turns  upon  the  man, 
who  makes  a two-forty  sprint  to  one  of  the  es- 
capes, where  the  bull  tries  to  batter  down  the 
planks  to  get  to  him.  The  bull  is  now  mad 
enough  to  fight  a circular  saw,  and  again  the 
bugle  blows.  The  ring  is  cleared  and  now  en- 
ters the  matador.  The  judge  hands  him  a red 
flag  and  a sword.  He  must  now  challenge  the 
bull  to  single  combat,  and  to  the  victor  belong 
the  congratulations,  and  the  man  knows  full  well 
that  if  he  gets  killed  the  crowd  will  cheer  the 
bull  just  as  heartily  as  they  would  if  it  were  the 
other  way. 

All  the  preliminaries  of  the  fight  were  to 
aggravate  the  bull  to  his  highest  fighting 
power,  then  turn  him  over  to  the  mat- 
ador, the  “star  of  the  evening.”  Rules 
as  rigid  as  the  Marquis  of  Queenbury 
prevail,  and  woe  to  the  man  who  should 
violate  a rule  or  take  advantage  of  the  bull ! 
The  judge  would  instantly  order  him  from  the 
ring  and  fine  him.  The  ethics  of  the  fight  re- 
quire that  the  man  shall  stand  in  the  middle  of 
the  ring,  wave  the  red  flag  as  a challenge,  and 


The  Paseo  and  Bull-Fight.  165 

as  the  bull  starts  toward  him  put  the  flag  be- 
hind him.  As  the  bull  charges,  he  must  reach 
over  his  horns,  thrust  the  sword  through  his 
shoulder,  pierce  the  heart,  and  the  point  of 
the  sword  must  appear  between  the  bull’s  fore 
legs,  and  it  must  all  be  done  in  a single  stroke. 

The  hand  and  the  eye  must  be  as  quick  as 
lightning  to  do  that  when  the  bull  is  on  the 
run.  If  the  stroke  is  successful,  the  sword 
flashes  a moment  in  the  air  and  the  next  its  hilt 
is  resting  against  the  shoulder  blades,  and  the 
bull  falls  as  if  struck  by  lightning.  Then  the 
air  is  rent  with  shouts  and  dollars  and  fans 
and  handkerchiefs,  and  with  one  foot  upon  the 
dead  animal,  the  matador  bows  his  appreciation. 
The  bugle  blows,  the  two  lazadores  gallop  in, 
throw  their  lariats  over  the  two  hind  legs  of  the 
bull,  and  without  checking  their  gallop,  drag 
him  out  and  prepare  for  another.  A bull  is 
killed  every  fifteen  minutes  as  regular  as  the 
clock. 

Sometimes  the  sword  misses  the  heart,  and 
the  bull  walks  off  with  a stream  of  blood  and 
an  ugly  sword  wound,  and  then  the  hisses  and 
remarks  that  fall  upon  the  matador  sometimes 
drive  him  to  suicide.  I saw  a matador  driven 
to  desperation  by  the  hisses,  and  seizing  an- 
other sword  he  made  the  stroke  just  behind  the 
ear,  severing  the  medulla  oblongata,  a more 
difficult  stroke  than  the  other,  thereby  redeem- 
ing himself.  Sometimes  a bull  with  wide 
stretch  of  horns  will  disconcert  a matador  and 
he  will  attempt  to  retreat  at  the  last  moment, 
but  then  it  is  as  often  death  as  escape. 

One  Sunday  a company  had  unusually  bad 
luck.  Three  horses  and  two  men  had  already 


166  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

been  killed,  and  only  two  bulls,  and  the  troupe 
had  no  more  matadors.  One  man  was  apologiz- 
ing to  the  audience  that  the  sport  could  not 
proceed  as  he  had  already  lost  two  men,  when 
the  bull  suddenly  made  a charge  upon  him  and 
caught  him  between  the  shoulders.  The“  sport  ” 
closed  for  the  day,  and  the  people  pronounced 
it  a great  success. 

The  next  Sunday  there  was  hardly  standing 
room  from  the  crowd  that  came  back  hoping  for 
a similar  show.  I met  the  crowd  returning, 
and  asked  how  was  the  fight?  Several  shook 
their  heads  and  looked  dejected.  “ Nobueno , 
nobody  was  killed  and  the  whole  thing  was  a 
fiasco.”  If  a bull  refuses  to  fight  after  the 
lance  has  been  thrust  into  him,  the  bugler  at  a 
sign  from  the  judge  blows  him  out.  It  must  be 
a bloody,  thoroughbred  fight  or  none  at  all. 
It  requires  a long  education  to  harden  people  to 
suffering  and  blood  as  these  people  practice 
daily.  I saw  two  soldiers  walk  out  of  the  bar- 
rack to  fight  a duel  with  pocket-knives,  and  a 
hundred  people  stood  by  and  saw  them  kill  each 
other  and  not  a hand  was  raised  to  stay  them. 
The  modo  duello  among  the  cow-boys  is  very  ef- 
fective. When  two  cow-boys  have  a difficulty  that 
cannot  be  settled,  their  friends  take  them  off  and 
tie  their  left  hands  together  and  stick  two 
bowie  knives  in  the  ground  for  their 
right  hands,  and  leave  them.  The  one 
that  is  left  alive  can  cut  himself  loose 
and  come  back  to  camp.  If  neither  comes  back 
by  the  next  day,  the  friends  go  over  and  bury 
them.  There  is  also  a woman  bull-fighter  in 
Mexico;  her  name  is  La  Charita.  Arizona 
Charley,  an  American  cowboy  has  also  endeared 


The  Paseo  and  Bull-Fight.  167 

himself  to  the  Mexican  hearfc  by  proving  him- 
self a first-class  matador.  Bull-fighting  is  as 
much  a national  sport  as  our  base  ball.  At  one 
time  it  was  interdicted  in  the  federal  district, 
and  the  people  would  go  to  Puebla  every  Sun- 
day, seventy-five  miles  away,  to  see  the  “sport.” 
To  the  lovers  of  the  sport  it  matters  little 
whether  the  bull  or  horse  or  the  man  gets  killed, 
or  all  three.  What  they  want  is  their  money’s 
worth. 

The  meat  is  sold  to  the  butchers  after  the 
fight,  and  Monday  morning  when  the  waiter 
asks  the  Americano  how  is  his  steak,  the  answer 
generally  comes,  “It’s  bully.” 


CHAPTER  XI. 


LA  VIGA  CANAL. 

ON  THE  side-wa^k  adjacent  to  the  western 
entrance  to  the  cathedral  is  an  iron  and 
glass  Kiosk.  This  is  Mexico’s  flower 
market.  Every  morning  in  the  year  from  day- 
break until  eight  o’clock,  the  sidewalk  and  the 
adjoining  street  is  one  mass  of  fragrance  and 
color.  Every  flower  you  know  and  as  many  as 
you  do  not  know  are  spread  in  the  greatest  pro- 
fusion possible,  which  fact  suggests  an  inexhaus- 
tible supply-house  somewhere.  Here  are  roses, 
jassamines,  pansies,  violets,  heliotropes,  sweet- 
peas,  gardenias,  camelias,  lilies,  honeysuckles, 
forget-me-nots,  verbenas,  lark-spurs,  poppies, 
jnorning-glories,  tulips,  geraniums,  and  orchids 
of  untold  variety  and  color.  And  there  were 
purchasers.  Priests  from  all  the  churches,  mil- 
liners and  cafe  proprietors,  dry-goods’  merchants, 
hotel  keepers,  the  senora  in  her  private  carriage, 
senoritas  with  holy  shrines  and  patron  saints  to 
honor,  devotees  whose  special  saint  day  is  to  be 
celebrated  by  a fiesta — everybody  buys  flowers, 
and  they  come  by  the  ton  as  fast  as  other  tons 
are  sold.  And  they  are  arranged  by  master 
hands  into  cornucopias,  crosses  for  the  church 
altar,  wreaths  for  the  funeral  car,  decorations 
for  the  cemetery,  and  into  any  design  the  pur- 
chaser may  indicate. 


168 


GROUP  EL  ABRA. 


La  Viga  Canal. 


169 


I ask  where  such  a world  of  flowers  can  come 
from  in  such  an  unbroken  stream.  “From  Las 
Chinampas,”  the  floating  gardens.  Floating 
Gardens  ! that  sounded  like  the  tales  I had  read, 
and  here  are  people  just  from  them ! I anx- 
iously ask  where  are  they  : uJEn  Canal  La  Viga;” 
and  so  the  search  began.  A street-car  takes  us 
to  La  Embarcadero  where  a hundred  eager  boat- 
men leave  the  wharf  and  come  running  to  see  us. 
I always  thought  I was  popular,  but  here  was  an 
ovation  I had  not  looked  for.  Then  I learned 
something  new.  Each  of  my  hundred  friends 
had  the  best  boat  on  La  Viga,  and  each  of 
my  hundred  friends  was  the  best  pilot  from  the 
canal  to  the  lakes.  Here  was  absolute  perfec- 
tion in  ship  building  and  nautical  knowledge 
that  would  make  Diogenes  put  up  his  lamp  and 
say:  “Eureka!”  After  each  had  extolled  the 
virtues  of  his  particular  scow,  or  flatboat,  or 
raft,  whichever  it  approached  nearest  in  ap- 
pearance, we  chose  one. 

If  Canal  La  Viga  was  ever  dug  by  man,  his- 
tory is  silent;  about  it.  It  was  here  when  the 
conquerors  came.  It  serves  the  same  purpose 
as  Niagara  River,  and  brings  the  water  of  Lakes 
Chaleo  and  Xochimilco  down  to  Lake  Texcoco. 
It  has  a uniform  width  and  depth,  and  its  banks 
are  lined  with  stately  avenues  of  trees  the 
entire  length.  To  the  great  middle-class  and 
Indians,  this  is  the  great  highway  of  commerce 
and  resort  for  pleasure.  Sundays  and  feast 
days  it  is  a mass  of  moving  color.  In  the  dim 
past  this  city  was  the  Venice  of  the  New  World, 
so  boating  is  an  inheritance.  The  boats  are 
from  ten  to  fifteen  feet  long;  from  four  to  eight 
wide  and  are  generally  poled  along.  There  is 


170  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

an  awning  and  comfortable  seats  where  the 
passenger  may  enjoy  the  scenery  protected  from 
the  sun.  You  make  any  arrangement  you  can 
as  to  price,  and  your  boatman  spits  on  his  hands 
and  pushes  off,  and  if  it  is  early  in  the  morning 
you  meet  hundreds  of  crafts  coming  to  market 
loaded  down  with  fruits,  grain  and  vegetables, 
pigs,  lambs  and  chickens,  and  charcoal  and 
baskets  and  everything  else  that  the  Lake 
country  produces.  The  vegetables,  by  irriga- 
tion, surpass  anything  you  have  ever  met  in  that 
line;  heads  of  lettuce  larger  than  cabbage, 
and  radishes  as  large  as  an  ear  of  corn.  A di- 
minutive steam  tug  is  met,  trailing  twelve  or 
fifteen  barges  loaded  with  grain  and  cordwood 
from  the  upper  lakes.  Under  a shade  tree  by 
the  water,  is  a laundry  after  the  fashion  of  the 
country,  and  a man  and  woman  are  washing 
clothes.  The  man’s  part  consists  in  sitting 
down  and  looking  tired  while  the  woman  scrubs. 

If  it  is  Sunday  the  boats  are  laden  with  gar- 
landed merry-makers  with  tinkling  guitars  and 
singing  and  dancing  and  having  a “large  time.” 
On  the  right  is  the  once  famous  Paseo  de  La 
Yiga,  whose  glory  has  long  since  departed  to 
the  Paseo  de  La  Reforma.  In  spite  of  its  neg- 
lect, La  Yiga  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  drives 
in  the  city,  especially  in  early  morn,  when 
canal  traffic  is  at  its  best,  and  during  Holy  Week 
when  the  great  middle-class  take  their  holiday. 
Almost  immediately  after  starting,  we  reach  the 
old  puebla  of  Jamaica,  which,  like  the  Paseo, 
has  the  look  of  having  seen  better  times.  On 
the  opposite  bank  and  by  the  Paseo,  stands  a 
melancholy  bust  of  Guatemotzin,  the  last  of  the 
Aztec  chieftains,  whom  the  Mexicans  delight  to 


La  Viga  Canal. 


171 


honor — another  testimonial  of  ancient  aristo- 
cratic grandeur.  The  next  point  of  interest  is 
the  old  Garita  de  la  Viga,  the  custom-house 
building,  dating  back  to  Spanish  times. 

Until  a month  prior  to  this  writing,  all  boats 
paid  custom  duties  on  whatever  merchandise 
they  brought  to  the  city.  When  the  duties  were 
paid  the  smaller  boats  were  admitted  through  a 
small  gate-way,  which  necessitated  the  lower- 
ing of  the  awnings,  while  the  large  ones  had  to 
discharge  their  cargoes. 

On  the  up-stream  side  of  the  romantic  old 
bridge  is  always  a blockade  of  boats  of  every 
description,  from  mud  scows  to  steamboats, 
waiting  for  a transfer.  The  first  town  beyond 
the  Garita  is  the  quaint  little  town  of  Santa 
Anita,  the  Coney  Island  of  the  Canal.  It  is 
essentially  a Mexican  town  of  thatched  reed 
houses,  nearly  every  one  a restaurant  for  the 
sale  of  those  unnamable  dishes  one  meets  with 
so  often,  which  have  a far-off  smell,  but  fill  a 
long-felt  want.  After  hearing  their  names  called, 
you  are  no  wiser,  but  feel  better.  There  are 
also  liquid  and  semi-liquid  refreshments  to  suit 
the  taste,  provided  your  sense  of  taste  has  been 
destroyed  before  coming  here.  The  insidious 
and  seductive  pulque  mixed  with  the  firey  tequila 
and  mescal  are  all  loaded  with  malice  prcepens , 
and  are  better  left  to  the  lava-scarred  throats 
that  have  met  them  before.  All  the  fruit  drinks 
are  excellent,  but  the  drink  par  excellence  is 
the  pina.  It  is  made  from  grated  pine-apple, 
sweetened  with  sugar  and  cooled  with  the  snow 
just  brought  from  Popocatapetl  that  morning. 

When  Horace  sang  of  the  wine  of  Brundusium 
cooled  with  the  snows  of  Hymettus,  he  had  not 


172  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

heard  of  the  pina  of  Santa  Anita  backed  up  by 
Popocatapetl.  Here  are  games,  and  all  manner 
of  games  peculiar  to  the  people,  and  flower- 
booths  where  the  people  buy  flowers  and  garland 
each  other,  where  even  the  humblest  may  wear 
a crowm  woven  of  fragrant  flowers  woven  by 
the  hand  of  Romeo  or  Juliet,  only  they  call  each 
other  Ramon  and  Inez.  Here  is  a fine  old  church 
with  a beautiful  tower  and  a diminutive  plaza 
with  restful  seats  and  entrancing  music. 

Re  sure  to  stop  at  the  hacienda  of  Don  Juan 
Corona.  He  was  a retired  bull-fighter,  and  in 
his  old  age  became  antiquarian,  and  his  house  is 
a vast  museum  of  costly  and  rare  antiquities. 
When  he  died  he  left  a legacy  to  found  a school 
for  the  poor,  and  if  you  have  any  pennies  to  be- 
stow upon  the  senora  wTho  shows  you  around, 
they  will  be  well  spent. 

We  leave  the  merry-makers  and  proceed  on 
our  search  for  las  chinampas , after  our  boatman 
has  mulcted  us  for  coppers  enough  to  tank  up  at 
a pulque  joint.  The  thick  ropy  liquid  has 
loosened  his  tongue  in  a marvelous  manner,  and 
the  flood  gates  of  his  information  bureau  are 
raised,  and  for  an  hour  he  gives  us  chapters  of 
unwritten  history  and  legends  of  the  country. 
That  which  I knew,  he  gave  in  Spanish,  and 
that  which  neither  of  us  knew  he  gave  in  Aztec, 
and  he  justified  his  claim  of  being  the  best  in- 
formed guide  on  La  Yiga.  Henceforth  I call 
him  Ananias . The  two  snow-clad  volcanoes  were 
close  by  on  our  left  and  I asked  him  which  was 
Ixtaccihuatl  and  which  Popocatepetl.  “This 
is  Esclaewa  and  that  is  Popocaltepay,  ” he 
promptly  answered.  I said  : “Man,  your  pro- 
nunciation is  bent  a little  bit  to  starboard; 


La  Viga  Canal.  • 


173 


everybody  else  says  Popocatepetl.”  “ Of  course 
they  do,”  he  said,  “which  only  proves  that  every- 
body else  is  wrong.  I say  it  is  Popocaltepay.” 
That  scored  one  more  for  that  designing  pulque, 
and  added  to  the  title  of  Ananias,  that  of  Geogra- 
pher with  a pedigree  only  three  removes  by 
blood  from  some  people  Baron  Munchausen  once 
knew. 

The  next  town  reached  was  Ixtacalco,  where 
the  people  seem  to  have  sobered  down,  and  the 
burg  showed  less  bent  for  pleasure  and  more  for 
business.  Here  a fine  old  stone  bridge  crosses 
La  Viga,  and  a discouraged  old  chapel  with  its 
portals  -wandering  down  to  the  water’s  edge, 
wrhere,  in  the  good  old  days  gone  by,  the  boat- 
man muttered  an  ace  and  deposited  his  offering 
to  the  saint  in  vdiose  honor  it  was  consecrated, 
in  the  hope  that  good  luck  might  attend  his 
market  voyage.  In  front  of  the  church,  dedi- 
cated to  Saint  Matias,  and  wThich  is  a Franciscan 
foundation  of  more  than  three  hundred  years 
ago,  is  a little  plaza  with  a fountain  of  running 
water.  Along  the  lane  from  this  plaza  and  marked 
by  a palm-tree,  is  the  ruin  of  wdiat  was  once  the 
chape!  of  Santiago,  which  is  used  as  a dwelling. 

In  the  midst  of  these  inhabitants  is  the  rem- 
nant of  what  was  once  a most  gallant  image  of 
Santiago  himself,  now  galloping  to  defend  the 
faith  on  a headless  horse,  another  relic  of  the 
romantic  past,  the  work  possibly  of  some  cavalier 
of  Spain,  under  the  leadership  of  that  prince  of 
brave  men,  Hernan  Cortez — for  cruel  as  he  wTas, 
we  cannot  withhold  from  him  the  meed  he  justly 
earned  in  bearding  the  lion  in  his  den,  though 
The  New  World  Venice  wTas  buried  in  his  blood- 
reeking  canals.  Who  knowTs  whose  work  it  was, 


174 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


least  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  Ixtacalco,  or  the 
mutilated  image  itself,  or  if  it  knows,  it  dis- 
closes not  its  secret.  We  told  Ananias  to  drive 
on,  but  that  worthy  assumed  an  electrocuted 
countenance  that  was  wonderful  to  behold.  The 
long  distance  had  already  paralyzed  one  side, 
and  “He  barely  had  strength  enough  to  take 
him  back  to  the  city,  and  the  Lake  is  fifteen 
kilometers.  You  will  have  to  hire  another  boat- 
man from  here,  and  senor,  by  all  the  saints  I 
could  not  pass  that  bridge,  it  is  beyond  my  terri- 
tory, and  besides,  senor,  how  much  more  will  you 
give  me  to  carry  you  to  the  next  town?  ” 

There!  at  last  we  see  him  in  his  true  light,  a 
pirate  ! Three  well-earned  titles  in  one  day  and 
it  was  not  a very  good  day  for  titles  either,  and 
he  had  no  appearance  of  aristocracy  either. 
Certainly  he  did  not  belong  to  the  Order  of  the 
Bath.  “Here,”  said  I,  “I  will  give  you  three  cents 
to  get  drunk  and  drown  yourself.”  Off  came  his 
sombrero  and  down  came  a salaam  almost  to  the 
prow  of  his  boat.  “ Senor,  I think  I hearel  you 
say  you  wanted  to  see  the  chinampas.”  “Chin- 
ampas ! why  of  course,  that  is  what  I left  the 
city  to  see,  where  are  they?  ” “Well  senor,  we 
passed  the  floating  garden  a mile  back  at  Santa 
Anita.”  Caramba!  Here  was  the  title  of  knave 
to  add  to  his  already  long  list.  With  the  hope 
of  “holding  me  up”'  at  the  bridge  for  a raise 
in  wages,  he  had  silently  passed  the  chinampas 
for  fear  I would  stop. 

My  admiration  began  to  grow  for  this  Captain 
Kidd,  and  I was  anxious  to  know  how  many 
cards  he  yet  held  up  his  sleeve,  but  it  was  ex- 
pensive, so  telling  him  to  soak  his  head,  I crossed 
the  bridge  and  struck  out  upon  the  causeway,  and 


La  Viga  Canal. 


175 


for  miles  and  miles  there  was  nothing  but  chin- 
ampas!  They  could  have  been  seen  from 
Ananias’  boat  had  it  not  been  for  the  bank  of 
the  canal.  This  then  was  the  mint  where  the 
flowers  and  vegetables  were  coined  for  the  great 
city.  Floating  garden  is  now  a misnomer.  In 
years  gone  by  they  really  floated  on  rafts,  but 
as  the  French  say  “ Nous  avous  change  tout 
cela .”  Since  the  lake  was  drained  they  are  all 
stationary  and  are  likely  to  remain  so  unless 
“ Popocaltepay  ” resumes  business  again. 

The  Chinampas  are  a net-work  of  islands — 
Venice  moved  from  the  city  to  the  lakes.  The 
land-owner  simply  taps  the  canal  with  a ditch, 
leads  it  around  three  sides  of  a square  and 
brings  it  into  the  canal  again,  making  a rectan- 
gular island  of  any  dimension  he  chooses.  His 
neighbor  beyond  taps  to  his  canal,  and  the 
system  is  extended  for  miles  and  miles  just  like 
the  streets  of  a city,  the  business  blocks  answer- 
ing for  the  islands.  Through  these  canal  streets 
dart  thousands  of  boats  that  harvest  the  crops 
that  grow  here  forever.  Surrounded  and  satur- 
ated with  water  the  chinampas  are  always  moist 
and  fertile  and  as  there  is  no  winter  it  is  one 
perpetual  seed  time  and  harvest.  The  accumu- 
lated humus  and  vegetable  matter  make  it 
unnecessary  to  even  fertilize. 

Broad  streets  cross  these  areas  at  intervals 
and  among  these  islands  and  along  the 
causeways  the  Indians  live.  No  mosquito  is 
ever  billed  for  an  evening’s  entertainment,  and 
the  voice  of  the  mud-turtle  is  not  heard  in  the 
land.  Malaria  ? perhaps,  but  what  of  that  ? A 
few  dollars  to  the  priest,  a few  masses  for  the  soul 
in  Purgatory,  and  the  general  average  in  the 


176 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


end  is  about  the  same.  Your  average  Indian, 
like  the  Hindoo,  is  a fatalist,  and  “Kismet!” 
what  is  to  be  will  be.  There  is  something  of 
beauty  in  these  humble  homes,  and  where 
flower-growing  is  a profession,  it  would  be 
strange  if  their  beauty  had  left  no  impres- 
sion upon  the  lives  and  homes,  and  so  all 
the  people  of  La  Viga  decorate  with  flowers. 
The  thatched  house  of  reeds  will  be  hidden  under 
its  wealth  of  vine  and  flower  of  the  copra  del  oro 
with  its  immense  golden  cups  approaching  in 
size  a squash  blossom.  Within  these  huts  are 
specimens  of  dark  beauty  and  features  and 
wealth  of  hair  that  many  a fairer  maiden  might 
envy.  Seated  under  her  own  vine  and  pome- 
granate tree,  wrapped  in  thought  and  a scant 
petticoat,  she  weaves  a mat  of  rushes  or  knits  a 
hammock  that  will  find  its  way  to  the  home 
of  some  who  read  these  lines. 

Are  they  happy  ? “Where  ignorance  is  bliss,  ” 
etc.  They  wTere  born  here,  their  parents  before 
them  w^ere  born  here,  this  beautiful  valley  has 
all  the  charms  to  them  that  your  home  has  for 
you.  And  is  not  Antonio  here  ? and  is  he  not 
the  best  gardener  on  La  Viga,  and  are  they  not 
going  to  the  little  chapel  next  fiesta  to  be  joined 
by  the  priest  ? Surely  happiness  in  this  world  is 
measured  by  the  contentment  of  our  lot. 

Not  all  the  people  of  the  Chinampas  have 
boats.  The  great  highway  along  the  bank 
carries  more  passengers  than  the  placid  waters. 
An  Indian  woman  with  a hundred  and  thirty 
pounds  on  her  head  will  trot  her  thirty  miles  to 
market  and  return  next  day.  I say  trot  because 
no  other  word  will  do.  All  people  of  the  burden- 
bearing class  have  a swing  trot  that  they  keep 


La  Viga  Canal. 


177 


up  all  day.  And  the  income ! what  glowing 
picture  of  opulence  does  the  Indian  not  feel 
when  he  spends  two  days  in  the  mountains  burn- 
ing charcoal,  then  loads  himself  and  burro  with, 
his  wealth,  and  trots  his  twenty  miles  to  market? 
A dollar  and  a half  for  both  loads  would  drive 
him  speechless,  but  let  us  confine  ourselves  to 
actual  facts,  and  grant  him  a whole  dollar.  He 
counts  himself  well  paid,  and  the  five  days  labor 
and  forty  mile  journey  count  for  nothing.  He 
is  not  selling  his  time,  but  his  carbon  which -he 
patiently  peddles  till  sold,  only  keeping  enough 
to  feed  his  burro  with.  I suppose  he  feeds  him 
with  it,  for  I am  sure  I have  never  seen  him 
carry  along  anything  else  that  looked  like  feed. 
For  desert  a few  banana  peels  around  the  market 
place  and  broken  pottery  is  about  his  only  chance 
unless  good  luck  blows  some  old  straw  hat  his 
way;  then  he  feasts.  Time!  What  is  time  to 
the  Indian?  Has  he  not  a whole  year? 

The  next  towm  on  La  Yiga  is  Mexicalcingo, 
seven  miles  from  the  city.  Before  the  Conquest 
it  was  of  some  importance,  but  now  only  a 
straggling  village  with  dirty  streets,  which 
shelter  possibly  three  hundred  people.  The 
ruins  of  the  monastery  and  church  of  San  Marco, 
built  by  the  Franciscans,  are  here.  The  old 
causeway  and  military  road,  seven  miles  long, 
that  once  crossed  the  lake  from  Mexico  to 
Ixtnpalapan,  crosses  La  Yiga  at  this  point. 
This  was  a dependency  of  the  Aztec  City.  A 
very  picturesque  view  of  the  high  old  bridge  of 
Aztec  time  is  had,  and  the  bright  green  maize 
on  one  hand,  and  the  old  ecclesiastial  building 
on  the  other,  bowered  in  masses  of  dark  green 
foliage,  are  very  pleasing.  Bast  the  ancient  old 


178 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


bridge  the  scene  changes  but  little  except  there 
are  less  signs  of  habitation,  and  finally  the  last 
town  of  La  Viga  is  reached,  Culhuacan.  This 
is  a picturesque  old  towrn,  half  of  it  built  on  the 
hill,  and  here  are  the  ruins  of  a fine  old  church 
and  monastery.  Here  La  Viga  begins  to  broaden 
out  into  a lake,  and  everywhere,  both  parallel 
with  it  and  at  right  angles  to  it,  are  many 
branches  of  the  canal,  which  in  wet  weather  are 
small  lakes  themselves. 

The  journey  might  be  continued  out  into  Lake 
Xochimilco  “The  Field  of  Flowers,”  and  the 
quaint  and  beautiful  town  of  the  same  name 
would  be  well  worth  the  time;  but  we  started 
out  to  see  where  all  those  beautiful  flowers  came 
from,  and  vent,  vide,  I returned. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THE  SUBURBS. 


ri  ^ HERE  are  twenty  suburban  towns  around 
I the  capital  that  can  be  visited  by  horse- 
X cars,  or  as  the  natives  say,  “tram-vias.” 
They  are  Atzcapotzalco,  Tacuba,  Tacubaya, 
Jamaica,  Santa  Anita,  Chapultepec,  Molino 
Del  Rey,  Churubusco,  San  Angel,  Castaneda, 
Tlalpam,  Cepoyacan,  Popotla,  San  Joaquin, 
Contreras,  Azteca,  Nueva  Tenochtitlan,  Guada- 
lupe, Tlaxpano,  Tlalnepantla  and  Mixcoac. 
You  will  notice  that  most  of  them  bear  Aztec 
and  not  Spanish  names,  which  means  that  they 
are  older  than  the  Conquest,  and  are  worth 
seeing,  even  though  you  do  not  get  out  of  the 


cars. 

The  farthest  away  is  old  Tlalpam,  about  20 
kilometers,  and  most  of  the  journey  is  made  by 
steam.  Seven  or  eight  cars  leave  the  city,  drawn 
by  mules  to  the  gate  of  the  city  where  they  are 
coupled  together,  and  a locomotive  pulls  the 
train  through  the  beautiful  valley  at  the  rate 
of  fifteen  miles  an  hour.  It  makes  one  feel  a 
little  bit  creepy  to  know  that  he  is  thus  hurried 
along  in  a train  of  street  cars,  but  they  are 
made  by  a reliable  New  York  firm  and  that 
gives  confidence.  We  pass  through  a valley 
overlain  with  volcanic  tufa,  and  herein  lies  the 

179 


180 


LandWitliout  Chimneys. 


secret  of  the  wonderful  productiveness  of  this 
farming  land.  It  is  easily  pulverized  and  makes 
a fertilizer  as  potent  as  the  commercial  ones. 
Old  Tlalpan  is  on  the  rim  of  the  valley  and  the 
foot  hills  of  the  plateau,  and  is  a residence 
suburb  of  the  wealthy  who  do  business  in  the 
city.  The  walls  of  the  private  residences  areas 
forbidding  as  a penitentiary.  Solid  masonry 
from  ten  to  twenty  feet  high,  capped  with  broken 
glass  fastened  in  cement. 

A Mexican’s  home  is  indeed  his  castle,  to 
which  he  enters  through  stone  walls  and  iron 
gates.  You  are  not  wanted  there  and  are  never 
invited.  I knew  an  American  professor  who 
taught  five  years  in  Mexico,  and  had  seen  the 
inside  of  only  three  homes,  and  then  he  went  on 
business,  and  saw  none  of  the  female  members. 
Such  is  the  custom  and  seclusiveness  of  the 
people. 

Tlalpan  reminds  me  of  a citizen  of  New  York 
who  went  into  a Jin  du  siecle  saloon  to  get  a 
drink,  and  when  he  paid  his  reckoning  it  was 
one  dollar.  He  naturally  protested  against  the 
exorbitance,  and  the  clerk  called  his  attention 
to  his  surroundings.  “My  dear  sir,  look  about 
you ; this  is  no  dive,  these  paintings  cost  a hun- 
dred thousand  dollars.”  The  victim  paid  the 
dollar,  and  thought  long  and  deeply.  The  next 
day  he  returned  by  way  of  a harness  shop,  and 
got  a pair  of  blind  bridles  that  draymen  use  on 
their  horses,  and  thus  equipped  he  entered  that 
aristocratic  saloon  and  walked  up  to  the  counter. 
“Gimme  a drink  straight  without  any  scenery 
today.”  That  is  old  Tlalpam.  Every  street 
has  its  blind  bridles  up  and  no  scenery,  but  it  is 
not  peculiar  to  Tlalpam.  I have  never  seen  a 


The  Suburbs. 


181 


Mexican’s  home  with  a front  yard.  At  the 
edge  of  the  sidewalk  up  goes  his  stone  house  or 
his  stone  wall,  pierced  with  an  opening  and 
closed  by  a heavy  iron  gate  fastened  always  on 
the  inside.  Members  of  the  family  have  to  give 
the  password  or  its  equivalent  before  it  is  ever 
opened,  and  tramps  are  unknown.  Life  would 
have  no  pleasures  for  a tramp  who  could  not 
open  the  back- gate  and  creep  up  to  the  kitchen 
and  frighten  a woman  to  death  by  a flash  of  his 
living  picture. 

In  Tlalpam  you  walk  a block  between  high 
walls  to  the  cross  street,  and  do  the  same  to  the 
next  and  the  next,  and  you  can  imagine  how 
delightful  it  is,  “Straight  without  scenery.” 
You  must  not  forget  that  none  of  the  streets 
have  shade  trees.  So  after  I had  admired  all 
the  beautiful  stone  walls  and  stone  pavements,  a 
wicket  was  suddenly  opened  to  pass  someone  in, 
and  I got  a flashing  glance  of  languid  senoras  and 
senoritas  taking  their  siesta  in  hammocks  swung 
between  lime  trees  redolent  with  fragrance  and — - 
some  one  shut  the  gate.  If  that  sleepy  old  town 
thought  that  I had  come  all  the  way  there  to 
look  at  the  stone  walls,  little  did  it  know  me. 
I pounded  on  that  gate  till  the  startled  inhab- 
itants thought  I was  trying  to  break  into  jail, 
but  I got  in,  and  found  myself  in  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  and  fascinating  places  I had  yet 
seen.  The  spraying  fountains  and  flowers  and 
song  birds,  and  the  Moorish  setting  of  the  sur- 
roundings, took  me  back  to  the  wonderful  stories 
of  the  Alhambra.  Meanwhile  that  astonished 
household  was  all  agape  at  the  unheard  of  in- 
trusion, but  great  is  the  power  of  flattery.  I 
frankly  told  them  that  I had  been  sent  all  the 


182  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

way  from  the  United  States  by  a committee  of 
one,  to  hunt  out  the  most  beautiful  places  in 
Mexico  and  secure  their  photographs  at  all 
hazard  to  display  and  strike  dead  with  envy  the 
people  who  live  in  the  stuffy  cities  of  America. 
That  on  that  very  morning  I had  left  the  City 
of  Mexico  for  the  express  purpose  of  getting  a 
picture  of  the  finest  place  and  the  most  beautiful 
ladies  in  Tlalpam,  and  with  that  end  in  view  I 

was  here. “Enough  Senor,  enough!  Take 

us ; we  are  all  yours,  the  house,  the  fountains,  the 
trees,  the  girls — they  are  all  yours,  take  them.” 

Here  was  eloquence  and  victory  combined  and 
I did  not  know  what  to  do  with  all  the  victory. 
I had  solemnly  promised  not  to  accept  any  more 
costly  presents  from  these  good  people,  but  this 
bunch  of  girls  seemed  to  be  different  from  ho- 
tels and  other  real  estate,  so  I resolved  to  make 
the  old  gentleman  a present  of  his  house  and 
lot,  and  keep  the  girls ; so  I very  gladly  em- 
braced— er — the  opportunity  of  posing  them  for 
their  pictures.  Why  these  good  people  should 
hide  so  much  loveliness  and  beauty  behind  im- 
passable stone  walls  is  beyond  my  ken. 

How  old  is  Tlalpam  ? I don’t  know,  but  it 
began  at  a time  when  the  memory  of  man  run- 
neth not  to  the  contrary.  Upon  the  walls,  the 
crop  of  glass  planted  in  the  cement  did  not  seem 
to  flourish  very  much.  It  was  a very  glassy 
looking  glass  and  seemed  to  need  irrigating,  but 
time  is  long  with  these  people,  and  if  it  does  not 
pan  out  a crop  in  the  next  fifty  years,  they  will 
wait  patiently  for  manana,  that  scape-goat  of 
all  incompleted  enterprises — to-morrow*  I don’t 
know  whatever  gave  these  people  an  idea  that 
they  could  grow  glass  anyway,  unless  it  was  the 


The  Suburbs. 


183 


Spanish  moss.  This  moss  is  a parasite  that 
grows  upon  all  kinds  of  trees,  but  in  old  Tlalpam 
it  grows  upon  the  wires  stretched  across  the 
street  to  hold  the  street  lamps,  and  it  is  aristo- 
cratic moss  that  grows  with  its  head  up  instead 
of  trailing,  and  I call  that  making  headway 
against  adverse  conditions.  The  weeds  and 
cacti  upon  the  wall  seemed  to  make  their  way 
better  than  the  broken  glass,  and  when  I last 
saw  them,  they  were  green  and  were  getting  up 
in  the  world. 

“ But  it  is  a long  lane,”  etc.,  as  the  proverb 
says,  so  at  last  the  supply  of  aristocracy  gave 
out  at  the  rise  of  the  hill,  and  we  reached  the 
realm  of  the  great  mrwashed,  wTho  had  neither 
walls  nor  rags  to  hide  their  nakedness.  The 
happy  children  were  clothed  with  innocence 
which  needed  no  other  protection  than  the  blue 
sky  and  the  Republic  of  Mexico. 

Higher  and  higher  we  go  up  the  hill.  The 
avenue  we  started  in  led  into  the  main  street, 
this  street  finally  led  into  a path,  and  the  path 
terminated  in  a cow  trail  and  this  trail  merged 
into  a squirrel  path  which  ran  up  a tree;  so,  like 
the  King  of  France,  “We  marched  up  the  hill, 
and  then  marched  down  again . 5 ’ But  before  start- 
ing down  we  stopped  to  rest  at  the  tree  where  the 
squirrel  trail  disappeared,  and  looked  over  the 
valley,  and  could  realize  the  emotions  of  Cortez 
when  he  stood  at  the  same  place  and  viewTed  a 
similar  scene.  Across  the  silver  lake  lay  the 
City  of  Mexico,  twenty  kilometers  away,  with  its 
thousands  of  spires  and  pulse-throbs  that  sup- 
plied the  veins  and  arteries  and  capillaries  to 
the  fortunes  and  hopes  of  its  tens  of  thousands 
of  dependencies.  No  wonder  Cortez  said  it  wag 


184  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

the  fairest  city  man  ever  looked  upon.  The  one 
thing  a stranger  never  quite  masters  here  is  the 
rarified  atmosphere  which  destroys  all  ideas  of 
distance  and  nullifies  all  laws  of  optics.  You 
have  traveled  the  road  and  know  it  is  twenty 
kilometers,  but  the  city  is  brought  so  like  a 
mirage  that  you  seem  almost  able  to  hear  the 
clock  strike.  We  leave  our  squirrel  path  and 
find  ourselves  in  the  city  of  the  dead,  a beauti- 
ful place  shaded  with  eucalyptus  trees  and 
furnished  with  restful  seats. 

Soon  there  enters  a figure  heavily  veiled  and 
places  a wreath  of  amaranth  upon  a new-made 
grave,  marked  with  a wooden  cross,  andR.  I.  P. 
We  leave  her  to  her  sorrow  and  follow  a limpid 
stream  from  the  mountain  back  to  the  city 
below.  Beyond  is  the  parched  chaparral  and  the 
thorny  cactus  now  laden  with  its  harvest  of 
purple  tunas,  surely  the  manna  of  the  desert 
for  these  discouraged-looking  peons.  Beside 
the  stream  were  green  trees  of  limes  and  oranges 
and  English  walnuts  and  agua  caties  and  an  air 
of  restfulness. 

We  follow  the  stream  into  the  little  plaza 
with  its  spraying  fountain  and  fragrant  Datura 
suaveolens , which  grows  into  quite  a bush.  The 
pleasant  seats  invite  us  to  sit  and  listen  to  the 
notes  of  the  noisy  purple  grackle  and  the  dis- 
cordant tropical  jay  as  they  take  their  morning 
bath.  Rip  Van  Winkle  is  still  asleep  and  Mrs. 
Xantippe  R.  Y.  W.  has  not  yet  come  from  the 
market,  and  so  for  fear  of  disturbing  the  seren- 
ity of  that  Elysian  Field,  we  tip-toe  back  to  the 
station  where  the  car  is  waiting,  and  that  sleepy 
pld  town  does  not  know  to  this  day  that  a band 
of  camera  fiends  invaded  its  sacred  precincts, 


The  Suburbs. 


185 


even  unto  its  highest  citadel  and  returned  with- 
out the  loss  of  a single  man.  Happy  Old 
Tlalpam.  R.  I.  P. 

Back  across  the  ancient  bed  of  the  lake  we  fly, 
and  where  once  was  Montezuma’s  fleet  are  herds 
of  sleek  cattle,  knee-deep  in  rich  alfalfa,  awaiting 
their  turn  to  contribute  to  the  material  welfare 
of  the  mammoth  city.  We  reach  a junction, 
Churubusco ! Immediately  we  think  of  that 
history  class  of  twenty  years  ago,  when  we  had 
to  “stay  in  ” after  school  because  those  battles 
wTould  not  fight  themselves  in  the  right  places ; 
when  Chancellorsville  and  Crown  Point  and 
Saratoga  and  Churubusco  could  not  agree  as  to 
time,  place  and  manner.  Here  was  a chance  to 
settle  one  point,  even  if  the  teacher  had  long 
since  died  of  worry,  and  we  anxiously  get  out 
and  look. 

“ Where  is  Churubusco?  ” “This  is  Churu- 
busco.” “But,”  I said,  “I  don’t  see  anything 
but  a street-car  stable  with  some  mules  in  it.” 
“ All  the  same  this  is  Churubusco.”  “Well,” 
I enquired,  “ where  does  this  mule  car  go  from 
this  junction?  ” “It  goes  to  San  Angel,  a sum- 
mer residence  town.”  I determined  to  go  out 
there  and  come  back  when  my  mind  was  settled 
to  take  adook  at  Churubusco,  but  when  I got 
back,  there  it  was,  just  an  adobe  mule  stable. 
I sat  on  a bench  opposite  and  tried  to  think  what 
did  General  Scott  want  with  the  stable,  and 
why  they  put  it  in  the  history.  I suppose  ib 
was  put  there  to  punish  unoffending  little  boys 
who  liked  to  play  base-ball.  I took  out  my 
camera  and  prepared  to  shoot  the  harmless 
stable,  and  changed  my  mind.  I wTas  not  on  a 
warlike  expedition,  but  was  in  pursuit  of  know- 


186 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


ledge,  and  I did  not  want  to  add  another  blot 
on  the  sanguinary  page  of  America's  Dr.  Ledger. 
No,  not  for  a brevet.  I put. up  my  magazine. 

A general  vegetable  merchant,  who  had  three 
cabbages  and  four  turnips  on  a board,  seeing  my 
troubled  countenance,  very  kindly  came  over 
and  said:  “ Que  pense,  Senor  ? ” I said  : “I 
am  thinking  about  General  Scott  bringing  his 
army  up  here  after  that  car  stable  and  then  did 
not  take  it  away  after  you  gave  it  to  him.  Now 
don’t  you  think  he  was  off  his  base?”  He 
shrugged  both  shoulders,  took  his  cigarette  from 
his  mouth  and  thought  a minute,  and  then  he 
uttered  these  words  of  wisdom  : “ Quien  saheV ’ 

I said,  “Well  if  you  live  here  and  do  not 
know,  how  am  I expected  to  know,  and  what 
are  the  histories  to  do  about  it  ? And  my  good 
fellow,  just  between  you  and  me  and  the  gate- 
post, don’t  3rou  think  if  General  Scott  had  come 
here  and  taken  a good  look  at  that  stable  first, 
he  would  have  gone  on  to  town  and  had  a good 
night’s  rest,  and  saved  me  all  this  unrest  and 
pang  of  conscience  about  that  history  lesson, 
and  that  poor  dead  teacher  ? ’ ’ 

With  his  eyes  full  of  pity  he  said:  “ Senor, 
are  you  hungry?”  “Yes  lam,  and  I am  dis- 
gusted with  your  old  street-car  stable.”  “Senor, 
here’s  your  car  if  you  are  going  to  town.”  I 
turned  my  face  to  the  city  and  my  back  on 
Churubusco. 

We  soon  reached  the  city  gate,  where  the  lo- 
comotive was  unhitched  and  the  mules  were  re- 
hitched,  and  we  were  soon  on  the  street,  where 
we  met  a funeral  car  with  its  black  canopy  fly- 
ing behind,  as  the  mules,  under  whip  and  lash, 
hurried  to  the  city  of  the  dead,  and  I went  to 


The  Suburbs. 


187 


drown  my  thoughts  in  a glass  of  pina.  Others 
may  have  this  drowning  mania  sometimes,  so  I 
give  this  recipe  free  gratis  for  nothing,  as  I got 
it  from  the  senora  on  the  Zocalo.  The  pine- 
apple is  first  pared  and  sliced  as  we  do  apples. 
Then  on  her  knees  the  senora  takes  her  stone 
rolling  pin  and  stone  vessel  like  a wash  hoard 
and  reduces  the  slices  to  pulp,  which  is  strained 
and  sweetened  and  iced,  and  is  sent  to  you  by 
the  senorita,  who  guarantees  to  drown  all  your 
troubles  for  just  six  cents,  and  she  innocently 
prattles  away  until  the  glass  is  empty,  and  “ of 
course  the  caballcro  will  have  another.”  Under 
ordinary  circumstances  you  would  not,  hut  many 
a man  has  taken  his  second  glass  there  just  be- 
cause he  did  not  know  how  to  say  no.  The  next 
car  is  bound  for  Atzcapotzalco,  so  we  jump 
aboard  and  pass  out  upon  that  terrible  cause- 
way where  the  Spanish  army  were  almost  an- 
nihilated on  that  memorable  night  of  Noche 
Triste,  July  1,  1520. 

At  the  bridge  you  pass  through  the  Riverra 
de  San  Cosme  and  are  shown  El  Salto  de  Alvar- 
ado. Alvarado  wTas  the  most  trusted  lieutenant 
of  Cortez,  and  on  the  retreat  that  night  the 
Aztecs  cut  the  causeway  and  the  waters  rushed 
in,  separating  the  army  of  Cortez  into  two  parts. 
Alvarado  was  fighting  in  the  rear,  and  when  he 
attempted  to  join  Cortez  he  found  the  dike 
cut.  His  men  were  all  killed  or  taken  prisoners, 
and  he  gathered  all  his  strength  and  made  the 
leap  from  the  end  of  his  lance  that  made  him 
famous.  Authorities  do  not  give  the  distance, 
but  say  it  wras  impossible  for  any  other  man. 
Aztecs  and  Tlaxcalans  alike  looked  on  in  amaze- 


188 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


ment  and  cried:  “ Surely  this  is  Tonatiuh,  the 
child  of  the  Sun ! ” 

Here  the  Aztecs  stopped  to  gather  up  the  rich 
booty  which  Cortez  had  taken  from  their  treas- 
ure-house and  was  forced  to  leave  behind  in  the 
breach,  and  the  circumstance  alone  enabled  the 
invaders  to  reach  the  village  of  Popotla,  a mile 
further,  where  Cortez  sat  down  to  weep  over  the 
destruction  of  his  army.  The  tree  under  which 
he  sat  is  by  the  side  of  the  street  and  is  known 
as  the  tree  of  Noche  Triste — Melancholy  Night. 
It  is  a cypress  and  is  called  by  the  Aztecs, 
Ahuehuete.  Some  years  ago  a religious  fanatic 
set  tire  to  it  and  disfigured  it,  but  it  still  shows 
a trunk  forty  feet  high  and  the  same  in  circum- 
ference. The  American  tourists  were  about  to 
take  it  all  away  as  relics,  so  the  city  was  com- 
pelled to  enclose  it  in  a lofty  iron  fence,  which  is 
fully  able  to  enforce  the  ordinance,  “ Keep  off 
the  grass.”  The  natives  very  naturally  expected 
me  to  attempt  to  scale  the  fence  and  get  a 
branch,  and  to  let  them  know  that  all  Ameri- 
cans could  live  up  to  their  reputation.  I vig- 
orously shook  one  or  two  of  the  iron  posts 
which  stubbornly  refused  to  leave  the  enclosure. 
All  the  same  I felt  proud;  I had  proved  to  them 
that  I was  an  Americano,  who  would  rob  the 
dead,  if  the  dead  had  any  keep-sakes  about  him 
that  would  do  to  exhibit  at  home. 

Having  thus  patriotically  saved  our  national 
reputation,  I boarded  the  car  for  Atzcapotzalco, 
which  was  once  an  independent  kingdom  and 
the  capital  of  the  Tepanecs.  Atzcapotzalco, 
only  seven  miles  from  Tenochtitlan,  held  the 
Aztecs  in  subjection.  Once  when  the  Aztec 
King  sent  a present,  Maxatla,  the  tyrant,  in 


The  Suburbs. 


189 


derision  returned  to  the  king  a woman’s  dress. 
Later  he  allured  to  his  court  the  wife  of  the 
Aztec  king  and  violated  her.  For  this  insult, 
the  Aztec  king  Itzacoatl,  “Serpent  of  stone,” 
made  an  alliance  with  the  Aeolhuans,  and  in  a 
two  days’  battle  the  city  of  Atzcapotzalco  was 
taken,  1448,  and  reduced  to  a slave  market  and 
never  again  rose  to  power.  I think  they  were 
still  talking  about  that  battle  when  I was  there. 
Old  age  seemed  to  have  settled  down  upon  every- 
thing, and  the  task  to  arouse  them  was  so  great 
I refused  the  contract  and  left  it  just  as  Cortez 
found  it  in  1520.  The  valley  surrounding  it  is 
very  fertile  and  alfalfa  and  vegetables  were  as 
green  as  ivy. 

Tacubaya  is  the  Monte  Carlo  of  Mexico  and 
the  most  aristocratic  suburb  around  the  city, 
with  fine  residences  and  beautiful  gardens  and 
the  most  handsome  villas  in  the  country.  From 
the  gate  of  Chapultepec  a causeway  leads 
through  a most  beautifully  shaded  avenue  to 
the  city,  and  then  I lost  interest  in  it.  I was 
riding  a bicycle  and  when  I reached  those 
cobble-stone  pavements  I gave  them  my  undi- 
vided attention.  A tall  fellow  from  Texas  did 
the  swearing  for  the  crowd,  and  he  was  so  fluent 
there  was  no  need  for  reinforcement,  so  my 
whole  mind  was  given  to  calculations  as  to 
whether  I could  mount  that  next  stone  or  climb 
out  of  the  next  hole.  I saw  a policeman  and  I 
thought  he  was  coming  to  read  the  law,  which 
says  no  team  shall  go  faster  than  a walk,  so  I 
stopped  to  give  him  my  impression  of  the  inquisi- 
tion and  the  rack,  but  I was  disappointed.  He 
had  simply  used  up  all  the  shade  on  his  corner 
and  was  hunting  for  more.  A frog  once  lived 


190 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


in  Kiota,  so  the  Japanese  story  runs,  and  he 
started  out  to  see  the  world.  When  he  reached 
the  top  of  a hill  he  reared  on  his  hind  feet  to  view 
the  world.  As  everybody  knows,  a frog’s  eyes  are 
on  the  back  of  his  head,  and  as  he  reared  up,  his 
eyes  pointed  right  back  to  Kioto,  so  he  returned 
and  said : “All  the  w’orld  is  like  Kioto.”  So  all 
of  Tacubaya  is  like  the  main  street,  just  cobble- 
stones. I am  sorry  I missed  all  the  beauties 
they  say  are  there,  but  all  I saw  was  the  front 
wheel  of  that  bicycle  and  the  cobble-stones. 
Bicycling  is  best  done  in  that  town  on  foot. 

With  Penon  it  is  different.  Penon  was  once 
an  island  in  Lake  Texcoco,  but  since  the  drain- 
ing of  the  lake  it  is  high  and  dry  and  is  noted 
for  the  hot  baths  and  its  beautiful  bath  house. 
The  \Vhole  establishment  is  paved  in  glazed  tiles 
laid  in  mosaics,  and  the  pillars  are  all  painted 
after  the  ancient  Egyptian  style.  I never  wTas 
an  Egyptian,  but  if  I was  I think  I would  mis- 
take this  excellent  imitation  for  one  of  the  old 
establishments  that  Anthony  and  Cleopatra 
used  to  patronize  so  liberally.  The  ride  to 
Penon  on  bicycle  across  the  ancient  bed  of  the 
lake  cannot  be  excelled. 

On  the  road  we  passed  the  new  penitentiary  and 
the  boys  wanted  to  stop  and  see  it,  but  I was 
perfectly  satisfied  to  ‘ ‘ pass  by  on  the  other  side . ’ ’ 
Not  that  I wTas  likely  to  meet  any  old  acquaint- 
ance among  its  officials,  but  on  general  principles 
I argue  that  a penitentiary  is  a good  place  to 
stay  away  from.  You  might  get  lost  in  there 
and  not  get  out,  and  besides,  we  had  been  in- 
terviewed by  the  greatest  newspaper  in  the  city, 
and  as  most  fellows’  wood-cuts  alwa}^  look  like 
somebody  you  never  heard  of,  I thought  those 


The  Suburbs. 


191 


officials  might  have  seen  those  pictures  and  would 
arrest  us — I mean  the  other  fellows — -for  some 
jail  bird  that  escaped  long  ago;  but  they  were 
bound  to  go  so  I told  them  somebody  had  to 
attend  to  those  bicycles,  and  if  they  would  not 
I felt  it  my  bounden  duty  to  stay  there  and 
guard  them.  So  I went  to  the  pen  by  proxy. 
They  say  it  was  grand  and  had  cages  and  other 
attractive  furniture  all  from  the  United  States. 
I always  mean  to  go  to  the  penitentiary  by 
proxy. 

Across  the  lake  is  the  city  of  Texcoco,  that 
was  once  the  Athens  of  the  valley  as  Tenoch- 
titlan  was  the  Rome.  Here  are  many  ancient 
remains  of  buildings  built  when  this  was  the 
most  bitter  rival  the  Aztec  capital  had.  Were  it 
not  for  the  help  of  the  Texcocoans,  Cortez  never 
would  have  conquered  the  Island  City.  Beyond 
here  are  the  Arcos  de  Zempoala,  an  aqueduct  37 
miles  long,  supported  by  arches  nearly  a hun- 
dred feet  high.  Two  leagues  from  Texcoco  is 
the  Malino  de  Flores,  ‘ ‘ The  Mill  of  the  Flowers,  ’ ’ 
which  is  not  a mill  at  all,  but  the  entrancing 
home  and  estate  of  an  old  Spanish  family, 
Cervantes  by  name,  and  one  of  the  oldest  and 
noblest  of  the  Grandees  from  old  Spain. 

In  this  fairy  land  of  a hermitage  you  marvel 
as  you  never  did  before  at  the  possibilities  of 
beautiful  surroundings  and  Moorish  architec- 
ture. I wish  I might  describe  this  beautiful 
place,  but  no  one  can  unless  he  be  artist,  florist 
and  architect,  and  as  I am  neither  I will  not 
mar  its  beauty  by  a parody  of  an  attempt.  For 
a description  of  the  towns  I did  not  visit,  consult 
any  good  cyclopedia. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


WITHIN  THE  GATES 


f~  HE  city  contains  nearly  six  hundred  miles 


of  streets  well-paved  but  not  supplied 


A.  with  shade  trees.  In  nomenclature  they 
are  a puzzle.  The  principal  street  is  San  Fran- 
cisco; the  first  block  of  it  is. called  first  San 
Francisco ; the  second  block,  second  San  Fran- 
cisco, etc.,  and  often  a street  changes  its  name 
every  now  and  then,  and  the  names  include 
everything : La  Nina  Perdita,or  Lost  Child  Street, 
Crown  of  Thorns  Street,  Holy  Ghost  Street, Moth- 
er of  Sorrows  Street,  Blood  of  Christ  Street, 
Jesus  of  Nazarus  Street,  The  Immaculate  Host 
of  Jesus  Street. 

And  the  shop  signs  are  a law  unto  them- 
selves. No  sign  indicates  the  kind  of  business 
done  in  the  shops.  Thus,  “ El  Congresso  Amer- 
icano ” may  be  a blacksmith  shop  or  a milliner’s 
establishment;  “El  Sueno  de  Amor”  is  the 
Dream  of  Love,  but  is  likely  over  a shoe  store ; 
“La  Perl  a Del  Orient”  was  a lottery  ticket 
office;  “El  Amor  Cantivo,  ” Captive  Love,  was 
a dry  goods’  store;  and  so  on  with  “El  Mar,” 
The  Sea;  “La  Coquetta,”  “ El  Triumfo  de 
Diablo  ” and  “ The  Port  of  New  York.”  Some- 
times they  hit  a meaning  which  was  not  meant; 
“ The  Gate  of  Heaven  ” was  all  right,  as  it  was 
placed  over  a drug  store. 


192 


Within  the  Gates. 


193 


Other  signs  ending  in  “ria”  indicate  the 
goods  sold.  “Sombrereria”  is  a hat  store, 
“sombrerero”  is  the  hatter  and  ‘‘sombrero,” 
the  hat.  “Zapateria,”  shoe  store;  “zapatero,” 
shoe  dealer;  “zapato,”  a shoe.  “S.asastaria,  ” 
a tailor  shop;  “plataria,”  silversmith,  etc., 
but  these  signs  are  used  only  where  articles  are 
made,  all  others  being  fanciful.  The  stores  are 
nearly  all  kept  by  Frenchmen  and  styles  are 
the  same  as  in  Paris.  The  ladies  of  the  “400”  do 
their  shopping  in  their  carriages,  and  have  the 
goods  brought  to  the  carriage  for  inspection. 

The  metric  system  prevails.  Railroad  tickets 
are  sold  by  the  kilometer,  land  by  the  hectare, 
cloth  by  the  meter  and  sugar  by  the  kilogram.  Sil- 
ver money  is  coined  in  the  same  denomination 
as  ours,  and  the  coppers  are  as  large  as  a silver 
quarter.  The  law  for  counting  money  by  dol- 
lars and  cents  was  passed  in  1890,  but  the  peo- 
ple still  count  by  the  old  way,  though  they 
know  both.  The  old  way  is  a copper  tlaco,  a 
cent  and  a half,  a cuartillo,  three  cents.  For 
silver,  medio,  6^  cents;  real,  12^  cents,  which  is 
equivalent  to  our  “bit.”  A quarter,  or 
“two  bits”  is  two  reals,  in  Spanish  clos  reales 
but  always  pronounced  “do  reals.”  The  real  is 
the  unit  of  calculation,  the  people  rarely 
using  the  term  pesos,  or  dollars,  in  small 
amount.  If  you  ask  the  hotel  prietor  what  are 
his  terms,  instead  of  saying  two  dollars,  he  will 
say  sixteen  reals,  and  will  use  that  term  for  any 
amount  less  than  five  dollars.  An  actual  real 
of  6^  cents  is  no  longer  coined,  and  its  value 
leads  to  serious  complications. 

Your  street  car  fare  is  twelve  cents  for  two  tick- 
ets. You  otfer  the  conductor  a quarter  and  he 


194 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


will  give  you  twelve  cents,  and  will  try  to  argue 
that  he  is  right,  but  when  you  enter  the  num- 
ber of  his  badge  on  your  note-book  he  promptly 
gives  up  the  other  cent,  but  he  never  fails  to 
try  to  claim  it.  I have  known  fruit  vendors  to 
lose  a trade  in  trying  to  keep  the  odd  cent  in  a 
quarter, arguing  that  a real  is  6^  cents  in  theory 
but  only  6 in  practice.  Counterfeiting  is  the 
greatest  industry  in  the  republic  outside  of  the 
lottery  business.  Paper  money  is  rarely  seen,  and 
that  makes  the  volume  of  silver  enormous,  and  re- 
quires everybody  to  carry  bags  of  it.  If  you 
paid  a man  a hundred  dollars  in  quarters,  he 
would  test  each  one  separately  hunting  for 
counterfeits,  before  he  would  accept  payment, 
and  the  “ring”  of  money  testing  in  the  market 
is  a regular  Babel.  No  man  or  woman  trusts 
another  in  making  change,  and  if  there  is  no 
hard  surface  near  to  throw  it  upon,  into  the 
mouth  it  goes,  and  if  the  teeth  make  the  least 
indenture,  back  to  you  it  is  flung. 

The  street  car  system  is  excellent.  All  the 
street  cars  are  horse  cars  drawn  by  mules.  They 
are  hitched  tandem  and  go  always  at  a gallop. 
The  cars  go  from  one  to  fifteen  miles  and  have 
regular  schedule  time.  They  all  meet  and  start 
from  the  Zocalo  on  the  Plaza  Mayor  by  the  Cathe- 
dral, where  there  is  a general  conductor  with  a 
time-card  who  starts  them  off.  They  always 
go  in  trains  of  from  three  to  six  or  nine  cars  in 
first,  second  and  third  class,  and  with  short 
distances  the  fare  is  three,  six  and  nine  cents. 
When  there  are  only  two  classes,  the  fare  of  the 
first  is  double  the  second.  The  first  class  car 
is  painted  yellow,  and  bears  the  legend,  “For 
20  passengers,”  and  must  never  carry  more. 


Within  the  Gates. 


195 


The  theory  is  that  if  a passenger  is  willing  to 
pay  for  comfort  he  shall  have  it.  Second  class 
cars  are  painted  green,  with  the  legend,  “For  35 
passengers.”  For  long  distances  the  fare  may 
reach  as  high  as  thirty  cents.  The  conductor 
sells  you  a numbered  ticket,  and  the  collector 
takes  it  up,  and  in  your  presence  must  tear  off 
one  corner  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  using  it  a 
second  time.  Gentlemen  always  offer  seats  to 
ladies,  and  salute  the  passengers  on  entering 
and  leaving  the  car.  As  the  car  is  reaching  a 
crossing  or  turning  a corner  the  driver  blows  a 
tin  horn,  the  same  that  makes  life  a burden  for 
us  on  Christmas  day.  If  the  car  is  going  to  a 
bath-house  or  other  public  place  where  charges 
are  made,  the  conductor  will  sell  you  a coupon 
ticket  with  admittance  to  the  place,  the  price 
being  always  printed  on  it,  thus  saving  you 
much  trouble  in  a rush. 

Courtesy  is  the  price  of  position  here,  and  no 
better  officials  can  be  found  than  the  street  car 
conductors,  and,  the  least  infraction  or  dis- 
courtes}7-  reported  to  headquarters  receives 
prompt  attention.  The  railroads  also  run  three 
separate  classes  of  cars  with  prices  accordingly, 
but  not  quite  in  the  proportion  as  street  cars. 
Thus,  from  Celaya  to  Guadalajara,  the  distance 
is  161  miles,  and  a return  ticket,  first  class,  is 
$9.86,  second  $6.56,  and  third  $1.90. 

Of  carriages  there  are  four  classes.  Carriages 
painted  yellow  and  flying  a yellow  flag  are  third 
class  and  cannot  charge  more  than  twenty-five 
cents  for  a half  hour  or  less,  nor  more  than  fifty 
cents,  for  a whole  hour.  Those  painted  red  and 
carrying  a red  flag  cannot  charge  more  than 
thirty-seven  cents,  and  for  an  hour  seventy-five 


196 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


cents.  Blue,  fifty  cents  for  half  hour,  $1  for 
one  hour.  Green,  special  rates  at  option  of 
driver  and  passenger.  When  a passenger  en- 
ters a carriage,  the  flag  must  be  taken  down 
immediately  so  that  everybody  may  know  it  is 
engaged  and  will  not  hail  the  driver,  and  he  cannot 
make  other  engagements  until  the  carriage  is 
emptj*.  All  carriages  and  horses  are  inspected 
by  a commission  who  pass  upon  the  respecta- 
bility of  carriage  and  team  and  order  the  proper 
color  painted  across  the  doors,  and  the  printed 
rates  pasted  inside  so  that  no  intelligent  travel- 
er need  be  imposed  upon.  And  every  hotel 
must  post  in  its  rooms  the  rates  “con  comida,” 
or  “sin  comida” — with  or  without  board.  No 
one  need  pay  in  advance;  no  matter  how  dilapi- 
dated you  look  or  how  scant  j^our  baggage,  you 
may  hire  the  most  costly  apartment  in  the  hotel 
and  no  questions  asked  about  security. 

This  is  because  the  law  protects  the  people, 
and  if  you  defrauded  a poor  market  woman  out 
of  a copper  the  law  would  follow  you  to  the 
confines  of  the  republic  and  imprison  you  for 
debt.  That  settles  the  bum  question.  The  hotel 
proprietor  assigns  you  to  your  room  and  cares 
not  a straw  about  you  until  you  are  ready  to 
leave.  If  you  pay,  very  well,  come  again.  If 
not,  by  clapping  the  hands  at  the  door  brings  a 
policeman  immediately.  The  policeman  hears 
the  landlord’s  story,  and  gives  you  your  option — 
either  pay  or  go  with  him,  and  the  prisoner 
becomes  the  property  of  the  creditor  until  he 
is  paid. 

The  police  system  is  excellent,  from  the  reason 
I am  told  that  they  are  not  appointed  by  politi- 
cal favor,  but  are  soldiers  from  the  barracks  and 


Within  the  Gates. 


197 


can  be  always  found.  Every  street-crossing  has  a 
policeman  all  day  and  another  all  night,  so 
during  the  twenty-four  hours  there  is  not  a 
moment  when  he  cannot  be  found.  When  the 
night  squad  comes  on  at  6 p.  m.  each  man 
brings  a lighted  lantern  and  sets  it  in  the  middle 
of  the  crossing,  and  it  is  possible  to  stand  at  a 
crossing  and  count  forty  lanterns  down  the  four 
intersecting  streets.  As  soon  as  the  houses  are 
closed  the  policeman  tries  the  doors  and  windows 
of  each  house  to  see  if  they  are  fastened,  and 
returns  to  his  lantern.  Every  half  hour  during 
the  night  each  man  must  blow  his  whistle  to 
show  that  he  is  awake  and  on  duty.  If  you  are 
a stranger  and  ask  for  direction,  the  politico 
will  take  you  to  the  next  crossing  and  deliver 
you  to  another  and  you  may  thus  be  passed  to 
a dozen  politicos,  and  they  will  take  every  pre- 
caution to  deliver  you  safely.  If  you  are  a 
prisoner,  the  process  is  the  same,  and  no  man 
knows  what  you  are  arrested  for  but  the  first. 
The  man  who  delivers  the  prisoner  simply  tells 
from  whom  he  got  him,  and  so  to  the  next  until 
the  first  is  reached  who  makes  the  charge.  This 
makes  bribery  and  escape  impossible,  for  when 
a prisoner  is  delivered  to  the  next  man,  the 
deliverer  must  report.  It  is  exactly  after  the 
manner  of  the  registry  department  of  our  post 
office.  Should  the  person  making  the  arrest 
receive  a bribe  and  permit  an  escape,  no  one 
would  know,  but  when  once  started  down  the 
line  no  politico  would  take  the  chances. 

Every  gambling  house  or  assignation  house 
or  cock-pit  or  any  other  institution  that  the 
government  licenses,  is  also  furnished  with 
policemen.  All  day  long  he  stands  guard  at 


198 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


your  door,  and  all  night  long  his  lantern  sits 
at  your  steps,  and,  like  the  old  man  of  the  sea, 
he  is  always  there  to  prevent  disturbance.  In 
the  gambling  house,  he  sits  like  a statue  till  the 
business  is  closed  and  sees  all  that  passes.  You 
give  a ball  in  your  private  house,  the  politico 
takes  a chair  by  the  door  and  sits  quietly  till 
your  guests  have  departed.  You  get  up  a little 
picnic  or  an  excursion  a few  miles  from  the 
city,  a special  coach  is  fastened  to  the  train 
carrying  a company  of  infantry  to  keep  you 
company  all  day.  A foreign  consul  gives  a 
reception  to  other  consuls,  a squad  of  mounted 
police  sit  their  horses  like  statues  in  front  of 
the  consulate  until  it  is  all  over.  The  American 
colony  gives  a 4th  of  July  celebration,  all  day 
long  they  follow  the  procession  or  look  at  the 
dancing  but  never  a word  say  they.  They  are 
neither  meddlesome  nor  prying,  they  are  just 
omnipresent. 

Your  society  gives  a parade.  Your  line  of 
march  must  be  made  known  to  the  prefect  of 
police  and  every  rod  of  that  distance  will  be 
guarded  by  cavalry.  You  enter  a theater  and 
every  tier  of  seats  has  a silent  man  in  uniform. 
You  enter  a hotel  and  any  complaint  from  guest 
or  proprietor  is  made  to  the  politico.  You  sit 
at  a public  table  or  other  place,  and  the  propri- 
etor refuses  to  serve  you  on  account  of  color, 
the  politico  locks  the  door  and  takes  the  propri- 
etor before  the  tribunal.  He  is  absolutely  every- 
where, but  he  is  neither  garrulous  nor  loquacious, 
and  he  answers  all  questions  with  a courtesy 
that  is  refreshing.  Beyond  the  city  limits'  he 
is  no  longer  a politico  but  a rurale,  a horseman 
dressed  in  buckskin  and  ‘ ‘ booted  and  spurred 


Within  the  Gates. 


199 


and  ready  to  ride.”  He  patrols  the  outlying 
country  as  a policeman,  judge  or  soldier.  On 
the  western  division  of  the  railroad,  whenever 
the  train  stops,  two  rurales  armed  with  rifles  and 
sabres  inspect  the  train.  When  the  train  leaves 
the  station,  a rurale  stands  on  each  platform 
and  looks  through  the  glass  door  at  the  passen- 
gers till  the  train  gets  to  the  next  station,  where 
he  gets  off  and  another  takes  his  place,  and  so 
on  to  the  end  of  the  road.  The  next  train  going 
the  next  way,  each  squad  is  carried  hack  to 
their  homes,  only  to  repeat  the  program  to- 
morrow. When  the  train  stops  for  dinner  you 
leave  your  wraps  and  luggage  in  the  seat  and 
pass  into  the  dining  room,  while  a rurale  locks 
the  car  door  and  stands  guard  till  your  return. 

Never  a word  do  these  silent  men  say.  For 
hours  they  stand  looking  through  the  car  door 
to  see  that  no  harm  comes  to  anything  or  any- 
body. No  one  ever  hears  of  train  robbers  in 
Mexico,  but  there  is  a reason  for  all  this.  A 
country  that  has  been  accustomed  to  its  annual 
revolution  and  whose  whole  list  of  presi- 
dents and  emperors  nearly  have  died  a violent 
death,  must  needs  be  ruled  by  an  iron  hand. 

And  it  has  not  been  more  than  fifteen  years 
since  bandits  ruled  the  country  and  dictated 
terms  to  the  government.  As  late  as  February 
15,  1885,  a commission  of  officers  was  sent 
from  Zacatecas  by  the  government  to  make  a 
treaty  with  the  bandit  chief,  Eraclio  Bernal, 
and  they  returned  unsuccessful.  The  bandit 
said  he  would  disband  his  men  under  these  con- 
ditions : “Pardon  for  himself  and  band,  a bonus 
of  thirty  thousand  dollars  for  himself,  and  to 
keep  an  armed  escort  of  twenty-five  men,  or  to 


200  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

be  put  in  command  of  the  army  in  the  dis- 
trict of  Sinaloa.”  That  is  the  answer  the  chief 
sent  to  the  government;  and  I have  seen  an  ex- 
press wagon  leave  the  train  with  the  mail  and 
express,  with  enough  armed  men  to  fill  the 
wagon,  to  escort  it  through  the  streets  of  a city 
of  seventy- five  thousand  inhabitants.  This 
condition  remained  until  President  Porfirio  Diaz 
hit  upon  a plan  that  it  took  a thief  to  catch  a 
thief,  so  he  sent  word  to  the  bandits  that  if  they 
would  quit  robbing  and  come  in,  he  would  make 
them  all  officers  with  a salary, 'and  they  could 
still  patrol  their  old  haunts  and  keep  the  other 
fellows  down,  and  they  accepted.  Now  these 
men  are  guarding  the  very  trains  they  used  to 
rob.  They  are  born  horsemen  and  can  ride  a 
horse  ninety  miles  a day  on  the  trail.  They  are 
the  best  horsemen  in  the  world,  and  can  throw 
the  lasso  and  shoot  as  well  as  ride.  On  a wager 
you  can  put  a rurale  in  chase  after  a steer  and 
he  will  throw  the  riato  over  either  foot  you 
name,  and  never  check  the  speed  of  his  horse. 

They  are  a law  unto  themselves,  and  inde- 
pendent of  municipal  authority.  The  rurales 
may  find  a man  breaking  open  a freight  car,  and 
they  take  him  behind  the  depot,  try  him,  dig 
his  grave  and  shoot  him  into  it,  and  the  case  is 
settled.  No  court  or  civil  law  will  ever  go  be- 
hind their  acts,  and  that  stroke  of  President 
Diaz  has  given  the  country  its  prosperity.  The 
wrong-doers  know  that  the  rurales  are  every- 
where, and  that  their  vengeance  or  justice  is 
swift  and  sure.  There  is  a tacit  understanding 
that  jails  and  criminals  are  expensive,  and  dead 
prisoners  are  inexpensive;  therefore,  if  a man’s 
crime  is  worthy  of  death,  he  is  shot  immediately, 


Within  the  Gates. 


201 


and  all  convicts  are  turned  into  the  army  to  do 
the  dirty  work  of  the  camp.  Should  he  try  to 
escape,  a hundred  men  know  that  they  will  he 
commended  who  shoot  him  first,  so  there  is  no 
wasted  sentimentality  with  crime,  it  is  simply 
an  option,  be  good  or  he  dead. 

Ten  years  ago  a man  dared  not  travel  without 
an  armed  escort,  and  now  the  same  men  he 
feared  are  his  armed  escort.  When  a great  cele- 
bration is  on  hand  and  the  military  is  wanted  to 
parade,  nine-tenths  of  the  admiration  is  be- 
stowed upon  the  rurales.  Centaurs  they  are, 
with  their  caparisoned  horses  with  every  piece 
of  metal  about  saddle  and  bridle  of  solid 
silver.  His  own  dress  is  characteristic.  With  his 
}^ellow  buckskin  clothes  with  silver  buttons, 
silver  spur  and  tall  sombrero  with  silver  span- 
gles and  monogram,  he  is  an  object  to  win  your 
admiration.  Go  where  you  will,  in  mountain 
and  valley,  hillside  and  plain,  you  will  meet  the 
rurales  (they  always  go  in  pairs)  with  their  ever 
ready  rifle  and  lariat,  looking  for  evil  doers. 
Neither  money  nor  time  nor  patience  is  wasted 
on  criminals,  and  you  never  hear  of  mistrials, 
or  appeals,  or  “deferred  till  next  session.” 
Their  court  dockets  are  never  crowded.  The 
official  shooter  with  his  Winchester  goes  from 
court  to  court  and  shoots  the  prisoners  as  fast 
as  they  are  condemned. 

The  republic  supports  an  army  of  forty-five 
thousand  men,  and  every  town  and  city  is  a 
garrison,  and  has  its  military  bands.  Since  the 
people  support  the  army,  they  think  the  army  is 
theirs,  and  they  make  claims  upon  what  they 
claim  as  theirs.  Every  town  has  its  military 
band,  and  many  of  them  have  three  or  four, 


202  Land  Without  Chimneys . 

and  three  evenings  of  each  week  and  all  of  Sun- 
day afternoon  and  evening  the  bands  must  play 
for  the  people.  This  is  a rule  without  excep- 
tion, and  they  are  good  bands  and  play  fine 
music.  The  bands  number  from  forty  to  eighty 
performers  each,  and  in  large  cities  there  is  no 
evening  without  music,  alternating  with  dif- 
ferent parks,  but  on  Sunday  they  are  all  on 
duty,  and  with  the  band  comes  the  social  fea- 
ture of  the  people.  Around  the  band  stand  is  a 
circular  asphalt  walk,  possibly  an  acre  in  cir- 
cumference. While  the  band  is  playing,  the 
parents  and  duennas  and  chaperones  are  seated. 

The  young  men  four  or  five  deep  are  prom- 
enading on  the  outer  circumference  of  the  circle 
and  the  young  ladies  on  the  inner,  but  going  in 
the  opposite  direction.  Here  are  possibly  a 
thousand  young  people  thus  enjoying  themselves, 
the  young  men  talking  to  each  other  and  the 
young  ladies  to  each  other,  but  never  opposite 
sexes  to  each  other.  Their  social  customs  are 
as  unchanging  as  the  laws  of  the  Medes  and 
Persians,  and  for  a young  man  to  speak  to  a 
young  lady  in  public  would  be  a breach  of 
etiquette  never  forgiven,  and  a young  lady 
would  not  dare  walk  two  squares  on  a public 
street  unattended  by  a duenna,  unless  she  was 
going  to  prayers.  She  would  run  the  risk  of 
her  social  standing.  There  is  no  doubt  that 
they  do  throw  “sheep-eyes”  at  each  other  in 
the  promenades,  but  speak,  never.  At  10  P.  M. 
the  band  plays  its  last  number,  and  the  duennas 
gather  up  the  young  ladies  and  the  young  men 
gather  up  themselves  and  they  all  go  home  and 
talk  about  the  glorious  time  they  had. 

The  young  and  unmarried  never  mingle. 


Within  the  Gates. 


203 


Should  a young  man  have  seen  his  fate  among 
these  promenaders  he  may  not  say  so  to  her. 
He  finds  out  where  she  lives  and  “plays  the 
bear  ” — that  is  he  passes  along  the  street  on  the 
opposite  side  and  gazes  longingly  at  her  balcony. 
This  he  does  many  times  and  many  days.  Of 
course  she  pretends  that  she  does  not  see  him, 
but  at  the  same  time  she  is  earnestly  looking  for 
him  every  day.  If  she  goes  to  the  window  he 
may  stop.  Further  encouragement  is  given  by 
her  disappearing  from  the  window  and  returning 
with  a smile  a la  Juliet , and  the  young  man 
goes  home  and  pats  himself  on  the  back  and 
throws  bouquets  at  himself  for  his  great  success. 
Perhaps  he  will  keep  up  this  bear  business  for  a 
year,  perhaps  two,  and  has  never  spoken  to  the 
little  angel.  Sometimes  he  will  get  under  her 
window  with  his  guitar  with  twelve  strings  and 
burden  the  night-wind  with  his  made-to-order 
songs,  and  if  she  does  not  pour  a pitcher  of 
water  on  his  head  he  has  made  so  much  head- 
way that  he  would  be  justified  in  thrashing  any 
other  fellow  who  should  hang  around  the 
premises  playing  bear,  “ haciendo  del  orso.'n 

He  is  supposed  now  to  have  made  enough 
headway  to  be  allowed  to  call  and  get  an  intro- 
duction and  he  must  find  a mutual  friend  who 
can  do  it  for  him.  He  arranges  the  matter,  and 
at  last  is  admitted  and  introduced  to  the  senorita 
in  the  presence  of  the  mother  and  father  and 
duenna,  and  he  never,  no  never  sees  her  alone. 
He  invites  her  to  the  theater,  and  when  the 
carriage  calls  the  whole  family  is  dressed  and 
ready  to  go,  and  he  never  sees  her  except  in 
their  presence.  If  there  is  no  objection  on  the 
part  of  the  parents,  and  if  Barkis  is  willing — 


204  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

and  she  generally  is — the  marriage  takes  place, 
and  “they  live  together  happy  ever  afterwards” 
as  the  story  books  say.  Their  courtship  seems 
to  be  in  accumulating  all  the  imaginable  diffi- 
culties possible,  and  always  presumes  that  the 
parents  will  be  unwilling  and  must  be  outwitted, 
and  this  invents  plots  and  counter  plots  ad 
infinitum.  Of  course  the  parents  know,  and  the 
young  folks  know  they  know,  but  it  is  the  cus- 
tom to  invent  difficulties  and  they  can  not  de- 
part from  custom.  A married  woman’s  sphere 
is  but  little  different  from  the  unmarried ; she 
can  accompany  her  husband  on  the  street  is  one 
advantage.  She  is  pretty  as  paint  can  make 
her  and  as  ignorant  as  hermits  usually  are.  A 
woman’s  world  here  has  two  hemispheres — the 
home  and  the  church,  and  she  lives  and  dies 
knowing  no  more. 

A woman  who  makes  claims  to  aristocracy 
must  not  under  any  circumstances  earn  a penny 
or  she  loses  caste  immediately.  If  she  teaches 
or  embroiders  for  the  church  or  for  charity  she 
is  excused,  but  for  herself,  never.  Sometimes 
poverty  clips  the  wings  of  these  high-flyers,  and 
it  becomes  a serious  struggle  between  starving 
and  losing  caste.  In  such  cases  they  will  some- 
times ostensibly  give  music  lessons  for  charity, 
but  collect  for  it  on  the  sly  and  still  preserve 
their  social  standing. 

With  the  great  middle  class,  all  this  is 
different — they  live  in  another  wTorld.  They 
make  no  pretense  to  tinsel  aristocracy,  and  have 
their  living  to  make  and  they  make  it  with  no 
limitations  whatever  beyond  their  capacity,  and 
for  intelligence  and  business,  a wife  from  this 
class  of  Mexican  women  is  worth  seventy-nine 


Within  the  Gates. 


205 


of  the  bluest  blood  aristocracy  I have  seen  in 
Mexico.  They  have  a fair  education  in  Span- 
ish, and  both  French  and  English  are  taught  in 
the  schools  now,  and  I have  found  them  able  to 
converse  in  ail  three,  and  could  bujr  and  sell 
with  as  good  a margin  for  profit  as  men. 

Of  course  there  are  three  classes  here,  and  the 
third  class  will  be  treated  of  in  a separate  chap- 
ter. The  only  bearing  they  have  here  is  that 
they  are  servants  to  the  other  two,  but  their 
social  standing  does  not  count  for  much.  Very 
fewT  girls  in  this  class  are  unmarried  at  thirteen 
or  fourteen  years  of  age,  and  twelve  year  old 
girls  as  mothers  is  as  common  a sight  as  pig- 
tracks.  Maturity  comes  early  in  the  tropics, 
and  a woman  is  a wrinkled  back-number  at 
thirty. 

The  marriage  ceremony  does  not  trouble  these 
people  much.  They  have  not  the  money  to  buy 
the  license,  and  so  they  omit  the  legal  ceremony. 
On  a hacienda  near  San  Luis  Potosi,  a peon  lost 
his  wife.  He  came  to  the  boss  and  asked  for  a 
mule  to  take  the  body  to  the  cemetery,  and  also 
asked  for  two  dollars.  He  explained  that  he 
might  bring  back  another  wife  with  him,  so  he 
wanted  to  be  prepared  for  emergencies.  After 
three  hours  he  brought  back  another  wife,  and 
his  household  machinery  never  missed  a cog. 

Feast  days  without  number  give  this  happy 
people  the  opportunity  of  enjoying  themselves 
and  resting.  Not  resting  because  they  are 
weary  or  overworked,  but  resting  on  general 
principles.  The  Ethics  of  Rest  is  a science  they 
have  appropriated  unto  themselves.  They  do 
say  that  men  who  love  music  and  flowers  will 
never  make  cowards  or  traitors.  “ La  Fiesta 


206 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


de  las  Flores' ’ — the  feast  of  flowers,  is  held  on 
Friday  before  Holy  Week ; “ Viernes  de  Dolores ” 
or  Sad  Friday.  This  Jiesta  was  once  held  on 
La  Yiga  when  every  boat  on  the  lakes  took  part 
in  the  decoration  of  everything  and  ever}^bod3r, 
but  Fashion  has  now  decreed  that  it  be  held  in 
the  Alameda.  The  Alameda  is  the  Charing 
Cross  of  Mexico.  It  is  a park  of  forty  acres 
that  was  once  the  site  of  the  Inquisition,  where 
Indians  were  barbecued  because  they  did  not 
accept  the  Catholic  religion.  The  Inquisition 
held  its  last  auto-da-fe  and  burned  its  last  con- 
spicuous victim,  Gen.  Jose  Morelos,  in  the  Plaza 
as  late  as  November,  1815  ! 

The  Alameda  has  been  the  birthplace  of  gun- 
powder plots,  and  St.  Bartholomew’s  days  and 
revolutions  all  and  sundry  for  many,  many 
years,  but  now  it  is  a peaceful  pleasure 
park,  beautiful  with  fountains,  and  aviaries  of 
rare  birds  and  redolent  with  orange  blossoms 
and  whatever  the  ingenuity  of  man  can  add  in 
the  list  of  charming  flowers  and  shaded  walks 
and  shrubs  that  never  know  the  sere  and  yellow 
leaf,  and  here  on  Viernes  de  Dolores , before 
daybreak  the  throngs  pour  in  a steady  stream 
of  Indians  from  across  the  mountains  and  the 
dwellers  from  the  plains  and  the  lake  dwellers  are 
there  and  everybody  has  flowers.  The  patient 
burros  have  come  laden  with  flowers  till  only 
their  ears  are  seen.  From  away  down  on  the 
coast,  Jalapa  has  sent  two  carloads  of  Jlores, 
and  everybody  buys  flowers  and  decorates  and 
makes  himself  pleasant.  No  one  must  fail  to  do 
homage  to  Flora,  the  goddess  of  Jlores , and  so 
garlands  and  wreaths  and  merry-makers  make 
possible  for  the  first  time  the  extravagant  dis- 


Within  the  Gates. 


207 


plays  I have  so  often  seen  on  the  drop-curtains 
of  the  opera  house  and  thought  were  so  impos- 
sible. The  fountains  were  festooned  and  draped 
with  the  rarest  of  fragrant  flowers,  and  rarer 
orchids,  and  every  available  place  on  person  or 
thing  was  adorned,  and  two  bands  played  al- 
ternately, and  from  early  morn  till  late  at  night 
was  one  vast  holiday. 

Then  there  is  another  Fiesta  de  los  Flores , a 
fiesta , but  not  a feast.  This  is  the  “ Cornbate  de 
Flores .”  This,  is  designed  especially  for  the 
aristocracy  and  is  held  on  Paseo  deLa  Reforma. 
It  is  a custom  borrowed  from  Cannes  or  Nice, 
and  is  exactly  what  the  name  implies,  a combat 
of  flowers.  The  line  of  battle  extends  from  the 
statue  of  Charles  IV  to  the  gates  of  the  castle 
of  Chapultepec,  over  two  miles.  The  carriages 
are  all  decorated  with  flowers,  an  as  they  pass 
and  repass  each  other  the  occupants  pelt  each 
other  with  flowers.  The  ladies  in  the  balconies 
along  the  Paseo  also  take  part.  The  hour  for 
assembly  is  4 p.  m.  A double  line  of  cavalry 
extends  clear  to  Chapultepec.  At  each  glorieta 
is  a military  band.  The  sidewalks  are  jammed 
by  an  admiring  multitude  who  watch  the  car- 
riages pass  with  their  occupants  resting  literally 
on  a bed  of  roses  with  which  to  pelt  each  other, 
to  finally  stop  at  the  statue  of  Cuauhtemoc, 
where  the  prizes  are  to  be  given  to  the  best 
decorated  carriages.  The  prizes  w^ere  escritoires 
in  ebony,  bronze  vases,  statuettes  and  diplomas 
of  honorable  mention.  The  carriages  were  trans- 
formed into  crystallized  dreams. 

One  lad}1-,  wThose  name  was  Concha,  had  a 
carriage  body  of  an  immense  white  shell  of 
eglantines  and  wThite  and  cream  roses.  Another 


208  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

was  a cornucopia  of  sea-weed  and  palms  inter- 
locked with  flowers  of  every  hue.  President 
Diaz  and  his  wife  appeared  in  an  undecorated 
carriage,  possibly  to  save  the  embarrassment  of 
the  jury  in  distributing  prizes.  And  what  more 
esthetic  and  harmless  recreations  could  we  have 
than  the  utter  abandon  with  which  these  people 
enjoy  the  blessings  of  life  and  nature?  Our 
lives  have  little  enough  of  sunshine  sifted  into 
them,  and  we  might  learn  some  valuable  lessons 
from  these  tropic  people  how  to  get  our  quoto  of 
real  joy  out  of  three  hundred  and  sixty-five 
daj^s.  The  fountain  of  youth  which  Ponce  de 
Leon  sought  in  vain  is  here  discovered,  happi- 
ness. 

The  drainage  of  the  city  is  not  good,  and 
were  it  not  for  the  altitude,  the  death  rate  here 
would  be  terrible.  Imagine  yourself  in  New 
Orleans,  and  find  yourself  suddenly  lifted  a mile 
and  a half  in  mid  air,  and  you  are  in  the  City  of 
Mexico.  The  air  is  rare  and  pure.  A corpse 
could  be  left  out  of  ground  any  length  of  time 
and  would  not  decompose,  but  would  only  dry 
up.  Fresh  meat  never  spoils,  and  vegetables 
simply  grow  old  and  refrigerators  are  unknown. 
There  is  no  winter,  no  summer,  but  the  rainy 
season  from  May  till  September  is  followed  by 
the  dry  season.  During  the  rainy  season  you 
may  expect  a shower  once  a day,  lasting  per- 
haps an  hour,  perhaps  ten  minutes,  and  then 
the  sun  shines  again.  The  nights  are  glorious 
with  southern  constellations,  and  Polaris  and 
the  Southern  Cross  are  both  seen,  but  the  handle 
of  the  great  dipper  is  broken  off  below  the 
horizon. 

You  wear  the  same  clothes  the  year  round,  as 


Within  the  Gates. 


209 


the  climate  is  the  same.  After  four  o’clock  you 
must  put  on  wraps,  for  the  nights  are  always 
cool  enough  to  require  blankets  every  night 
in  the  year.  The  Mexican  made  shoe  is  an  in- 
strument of  torture  which  nobody  would  endure 
but  a Mexican,  because  he  has  never  seen  a bet- 
ter. High  heel  and  tooth-pick  toe,  throws  all 
the  weight  in  a pointed  toe  which  must  hold 
twice  its  normal  capacity.  The  unsightly  gait 
the  women  make  with  this  uncomfortable  shoe 
is  distressing,  and  to  add  to  the  torture  they  do 
not  wear  stockings — so  I am  told.  My  own 
shoes  wore  out  and  I tried  in  four  cities,  with- 
out success,  to  buy  a pair  of  low-cut  shoes.  We 
wear  them  for  the  comfort  they  bring  in  hot 
weather,  but  they  have  none,  so  they  do  not 
make  low-quarter  shoes.  You  never  see  perspi- 
ration on  a person’s  face  here,  no  matter  how 
violent  the  exercise. 

The  Mexican  chews  tobacco — never.  He  smokes 
tobacco,  always,  men,  women  and  children,  on 
the  street,  in  the  theater,  at  the  table — every- 
where is  the  deadly  cigarette,  and  they  inhale 
the  smoke  and  emit  it  from  the  nostrils.  The 
Pullman  car  is  the  only  place  where  it  is  neces- 
sary to  display  the  sign  “ Wo  se  permitir  fumar .” 
The  matches  are  wax  tapers  and  double  enders. 
When  a person  asks  for  a match,  he  lights  one 
end  and  puts  it  out,  and  always  returns  you  the 
unused  end.  Such  a match  will  hold  a blaze  a 
minute.  High  caste  ladies  do  not  smoke  in 
public.  The  floors  of  the  cars  and  other  public 
places  are  pitted  as  though  they  have  had  the 
small-pox  where  smokers  have  thrown  their 
half-burned  matches  which  burn  long  enough 
to  scorch  the  floor. 


210  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

The  theaters  are  built  after  our  style  except 
that  every  tier  of  seats  is  divided  into  boxes 
holding  six  chairs.  Everything  goes  well  until 
the  last  act,  when  a porter  calls  upon  you  politely 
for  six  cents  for  the  use  of  the  chair,  and  then 
you  learn  that  the  price  of  the  ticket  does  not 
include  a seat,  and  that  a seat  concession  goes 
with  every  theater.  You  may  stand  if  jtou  pre- 
fer, but  a Spanish  play  is  no  shorter  than  an 
English  one.  In  the  front  center  of  the  stage 
is  the  prompters  stand.  Through  a trap-door  in 
the  stage  near  the  foot-lights  his  head  projects 
above  the  floor  and  is  concealed  from  the  audience 
by  a tin  cornucopia  opening  toward  the  stage, 
so  he  can  be  seen  as  wTell  as  heard  by  the  actors, 
but  he  can  also  be  heard  by  the  audience  as  he 
prompts  their  half-learned  lines. 

Kerosene  at  fifty  cents  a gallon  is  the  universal 
public  illuminator,  and  the  empty  five-gallon 
cans  with  the  U.  S.  brand  are  met  with  every- 
where. 

Sept.  16  is  Independence  Day  in  Mexico, and  its 
observance  is  worthy  of  note.  Its  birth  was  sim- 
ilar to  our  own,  and  the  child  of  oppression  from 
the  mother  country.  Spain  prohibited  the  Mexi- 
cans any  trade  whatever  with  any  other  country 
but  Spain  under  penalty  of  death.  No  schools 
whatever  were  allowed  except  in  charge  of  the 
priests,  who  suppressed  every  branch  of  useful 
knowledge.  No  manufactures  of  any  kind  were 
allowed  if  Spain  could  produce  and  sell  the 
article,  and  nothing  was  allowed  to  be  planted 
in  the  rich  soil  that  Spanish  farmers  in  Spain 
could  sell  in  Mexico.  In  1810,  a patriotic  Cath- 
olic priest,  Maguel  Hidalgo  y Castella  (Hidalgo 
his  father’s  name,  Castella  his  mother’s)  with  a 


Within  the  Gates. 


211 


desire  to  benefit  his  starving  countrymen,  in- 
troduced the  silkworm  and  planted  vineyards. 
These  industries  were  promptly  destroyed  by  the 
Spanish  officials,  and  thus  were  the  seeds  of 
rebellion  and  liberty  planted. 

Hidalgo  had  been  among  his  countrymen  and 
organized  a rebellion.  On  the  night  of  Sept.  15, 
1810,  it  was  whispered  to  Hidalgo  that  his  plans 
were  discovered  and  the  government  forces  were 
marching  on  him.  With  swift  decision  he  had 
the  church  bells  of  Dolores  to  sound  the  danger 
signal,  and  when  the  alarmed  population 
reached  the  plaza,  they  found  their  priest  with 
torch  and  musket.  With  burning  words  he 
told  them  of  their  wrongs  and  discovered  plans, 
and  at  that  Strange  hour  and  in  the  darkness 
where  one  could  not  distinguish  friend  or  foe  he 
gave  the  famous  grito , Mexico’s  Declaration  of 
Independence:  “Long  live  our  Mother,  most 
holy  Guadalupe!  Long  Live  America!  Death  to 
bad  Government!  ” 

Thus,  in  that  modest  hamlet,  now  known  as 
Dolores  Hidalgo,  was  set  on  foot  the  revolution 
which  eleven  years  later  gave  Mexico  her  inde- 
pendence, after  three  hundred  years  of  oppres- 
sion and  cruelty  never  equalled  before  in  any 
other  country.’  And  now,  on  the  night  of  Sept. 
15,  you  may  witness  the  most  remarkable  cele- 
bration among  liberty-loving  people.  Before 
night  the  tri-color  is  displayed  from  every 
building,  and  across  the  streets  are  hung  in- 
numerable Chinese  lanterns  ready  for  lighting. 

As  night  advances,  the  ten  acres  of  the  Plaza 
Mayor  becomes  a seething  mass,  just  as  it  was 
that  memorable  night  of  Noche  Triste  three 
hundred  and  seventy-six  years  ago  when  the 


212 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


Aztecs  drove  the  Conquistadors  from  this  very 
plaza  beyond  the  city  gates.  As  the  hands  of 
the  great  clock  in  the  cathedral  slowly  move, 
those  ten  acres  of  faces  are  turned  upon  its  illum- 
inated dial  and  all  voices  are  hushed.  As  the 
hands  come  together,  a magic  wand  is  touched 
somewhere,  and  ten  thousand  lights  flash  on  the 
scene  from  a thousand  beacons.  The  string  of 
Chinese  lanterns  sway  across  the  streets.  Immed- 
iately that  sea  of  faces  is  turned  to  the  opposite 
end  of  the  Plaza  facing  the  national  palace. 
Like  a scene  from  “Lore’s  Last  Judgment,” 
those  silent  faces,  in  the  lights  and  shadows  of 
the  illumination,  point  southward,  waiting 
Hidalgo’s  hour.  Exactly  at  eleven  o’clock,  ap- 
pears the  soldier-president,  Porfirio  Diaz,  hearing 
above  his  head  the  banner  of  red,  white  and 
green,  and  from  under  its  folds  launches  forth 
again  the  grito  that  for  eighty-seven  years  has 
been  their  war-cry  : “ Mexicanos!  Vivaldepen- 
dencia!  Viva  La  Republic  a ! ” Instanter  the 
trumpets  blare,  the  cannons  boom,  martial 
music  is  set  free,  the  bells  from  the  towers  give 
tone  and  the  heavens  are  lit  with  the  glare  of 
fireworks  that  rival  the  halcyon  days  of  Popocat- 
apetl.  Ten  thousand  resound  the  glorious  call. 
“ Viva  Mexico l Viva  Independencia  ! ” until 
the  very  soul  of  every  freeman  instinctively  cries 
in  its  own  language,  “ Viva  Independencia!  ” 
The  next  day  the  grand  review  of  the  army 
takes  place,  and  promptly  at  ten  o’clock  the 
regulars  of  the  infantry  and  cavalry  pass  by  in 
new  uniform,  but  their  glory  is  eclipsed  wThen 
two  thousand  rurales,  the  finest  horsemen  in 
the  world,  flash  by  in  their  buckskin  uniforms, 
the  silver  sheen  of  their  trappings  glinting  in 


Within  the  Gates. 


213 


the  sunlight  on  horses  that  know  every  water 
hole  and  aroya  from  the  Rio  Grande  to  Tehuan- 
tepec. For  a whole  week  these  light-hearted 
people  celebrate  with  balls  and  banquets  and 
fireworks  and  fiestas  and  the  poor  are  remem- 
bered with  gifts  from  the  president’s  wife. 

Hidalgo  was  a martyr  to  his  cause,  and  with- 
in eight  months  his  head  hung  from  the  castle 
walls  of  Chihauhua,  but  now  rests  in  the  Cathe- 
dral under  The  Altar  of  Kings.  Iturbide  took 
up  his  fallen  sword  and  in  1821  entered  the 
capital  at  the  head  of  his  victorious  troops  and 
was  hailed  as  “ El  Libertador,”  and  was  crowned 
as  the  first  Emperor  of  Mexico.  Santa  Anna 
headed  the  revolution  that  banished  him,  and 
on  his  return  in  1824  was  shot  as  is  the  custom 
with  Mexico’s  rulers. 

But  there  is  another  day  as  dear  to  Mexico  as 
September  16,  and  that  is  July  18,  the  day 
when  Juarez  died.  Benito  Pablo  Juarez 
(Whareth)  was  a full  blood  Indian,  born  in  Ix- 
tlan  in  the  state  of  Oajaca,  in  1806.  From 
1847  to  1852  he  was  governor  of  Oajaca  and  was 
banished  by  Santa  Anna.  He  returned  in  1855 
and  joined  the  revolution  of  Alvarez  which  de- 
posed Santa  Anna,  and  after  continual  fighting, 
was  declared  president  in  1861.  Immediately 
he  issued  a decree  suspending  for  two  years  all 
payments  on  the  public  debt.  Forthwith  Eng- 
land, Spain  and  France  sent  a combined  army 
to  Seek  redress.  England  and  Spain  soon  with- 
drew, but  Louis  Napoleon,  taking  advantage  of 
the  civil  war  in  the  United  States,  and  presum- 
ing that  the  disrupted  union  could  never 
enforce  the  Monroe  Doctrine,  declared  war 
against  Mexico  and  offered  the  throne  to  Arch- 


214  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

duke  Maximilian,  of  Austria,  as  Emperor.  For 
seven  years  were  the  contending  armies  in  the 
field,  but  in  1867  Maximilian  was  taken  prison- 
er and  shot  at  Quetaro,  and  Juarez  ruled  su- 
preme. And  then  that  Aztec  Indian  by  one  fell 
stroke  lifted  the  pall  from  his  much  warred 
people  and  did  an  act  which  astonished  the 
world.  For  three  hundred  and  fifty  years  had 
the  Catholic  Church  misruled  and  despoiled 
Mexico.  The  people  were  taxed  to  the  starving 
point  to  enrich  the  priests.  It  was  the  Catholic 
Church  of  France  that  had  placed  Maximilian 
on  the  throne,  and  the  Catholic  Church  of  Mex- 
ico that  kept  him  there  and  fought  his  battles 
against  the  liberty -loving  Indians. 

Three-fourths  of  all  the  lands  and  property  of 
Mexico  were  deeded  to  the  church  free  of  taxa- 
tion, and  when  the  “Procession  of  the  Host” 
passed  along  the  streets,  every  foreigner  or  skep- 
tic who  did  not  at  once  kneel  was  in  danger  of 
the  Inquisition.  This  was  the  state  of  affairs 
in  1867,  but  Juarez  faltered  not.  All  the  vin- 
dictiveness of  his  race  was  kindled  when  he 
thought  of  the  tale  of  bricks  that  had  been  re- 
quired of  them  under  Spanish  rule  and  in  that 
supreme  moment  he  divorced  church  and  state, 
and  confiscated  all  the  church  property  to  the 
state.  No  thunderbolt  could  have  been  more 
swift  or  more  obedient  than  his  decree.  Every 
convent,  monastic  or  religious  institution  was 
closed  and  devoted  to  secular  purposes  Every 
religious  society  of  Jesuits  and  Sisters  of  Charity 
was  banished  from  the  country.  So  thorough 
was  his  work,  that  now  no  convent  or  monas- 
tery can  openly  exist  in  Mexico,  and  no  priest 
pr  nun  or  Sister  of  Charity  can  now  walk  the 


Within  the  Gates. 


215 


streets  of  Mexico  in  any  distinctive  article  of 
dress  to  distinguish  them  from  any  other  citizens. 

Catholic  worship  is  still  permitted  in  the 
cathedral,  but  the  Mexican  flag  floats  from  the 
tower  to  show  that  it  is  a state  institution  and 
can  at  any  time  he  closed  or  sold  or  converted 
into  any  use  the  government  sees  fit,  and  that 
the  clergy  and  priests  are  “tenants  at  will.” 
All  those  rites  which  once  supported  the  claims 
of  the  Catholic  Church  to  omnipotence  are  now 
performed  by  the  state.  The  civil  authority 
performs  the  marriage  ceremony,  registers 
births  and  provides  for  the  burial  of  the  dead. 
Marriage  ceremony  by  the  priests  is  not  pro- 
hibited, and  they  are  legally  superfluous,  but 
those  who  cling  to  the  old,  first  secure  the  state 
rite  and  afterwards  seek  the  church  service. 
The  church  controlled  all  educational  institu- 
tions, all  public  opinion  and  the  keys  of  heaven 
and  hell. 

When  the  soldiers  of  Juarez  pulled  down  the 
fetishes  of  the  Indians,  the  Indians  stood 
speechless  expecting  fire  from  heaven  to  consume 
them  for  sacrilege,  for  thus  they  were  taught  by 
the  priests.  The  exiled  monks  cursed  them  for 
anathema  maranatha  and  prophesied  that  the 
earth  would  open  and  destroy  the  despoiled,  but 
the  soldiers  laid  paved  streets  across  the  yards 
of  convents  that  had  witnessed  crimes  and  de- 
bauchery in  the  guise  of  holiness  in  the 
“Retreats”  that  would  smell  to  heaven,  and  not 
a soldier  was  engulfed.  For  the  first  time  the 
ignorant  people  learned  that  the  priesthood  was 
not  infallible,  that  the  fear  of  the  church  had 
no  terrors  to  this  Indian  president,  and  the  old 
Aztec  spirit  returned,  and  for  the  first  time  the  ve- 


216 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


neer  Christianity  of  the  Catholic  faith  showed  its 
shallow  depths,  and  the  disappointed  adherents 
lifted  not  a finger  against  this  dark-skinned 
iconoclast.  The  church  at  that  time  owned 
eight  hundred  and  sixty-one  large  country 
estates  valued  at  $71,000,000.  Twenty-two 
thousand  lots  of  city  property  valued  at  $113,- 
000,000  and  other  property  not  listed,  making  a 
total  of  $300,000,000,  and  the  revenue  of  the 
clergy  from  the  people  direct  was  $22,000,000 
annually,  which  was  more  than  the  income  of 
the  government  from  all  its  customs  and  internal 
taxes.  By  the  irony  of  fate,  Protestants  who 
before  this  were  nob  allowed  in  the  country,  now 
bought  from  the  state  this  ve^  property. 

Thus,  the  former  spacious  headquarters  of  the 
Franciscans  with  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
chapels  in  the  world,  fronting  Calle  de  San 
Francisco,  the  most  fashionable  street  in  Mexico, 
was  sold  to  Bishop  Riley,  acting  for  the  American 
Episcopal  mission,  at  the  price  of  $35,000,  and 
is  now  valued  at  over  $200,000.  Likewise  in 
Puebla  the  American  Baptists  have  bought  the 
old  palace  of  the  Inquisition,  and  a similar 
palace  in  the  City  of  Mexico  is  now  a medical 
college.  The  national  library  occupies  an  old 
convent,  and  a large  share  of  its  treasures  were 
confiscated  from  the  Roman  churches.  Since 
1867  Protestant  churches  are  springing  up  every- 
where, where  it  was  worth  a man’s  life  to  propose 
such  a thing  before.  Previous  to  this  so  per- 
sistent was  the  church  thab  the  national  seal 
bore  the  legend:  “Religion,  Union  and  Lib- 
erty,” placing  the  church  first,  and  even  after 
Mexico  secured  independence  the  seal  remained 
the  same. 


Within  the  Gates. 


217 


Juarez  was  both  a Tfashington  and  a Lincoln 
to  Mexico,  and  so  when  July  18th  comes  around 
to  mark  the  day  of  his  death,  from  Dan  to 
Beersheba  is  one  vast  blast  of  bunting  and  fire- 
works. I was  in  the  capital  on  that  memorable 
day  when  the  city  put  on  its  holiday  dress  to  do 
honor  to  the  name  of  Juarez  and  to  strew  flowers 
on  his  grave. 

All  lovers  of  liberty  were  given  an  opportunity 
to  hear  the  eagle  scream.  President  Diaz  was 
the  chief  figure  in  the  procession  and  was  the 
first  to  lay  his  offering  on  the  tomb,  followed  by 
the  members  of  congress,  the  diplomatic  corps 
and  the  military  bodies.  The  stars  and  stripes 
were  there  of  course,  _and  the  Spaniards  were 
there  in  numbers.  Two  hundred  and  fifty  Cu- 
bans had  a place  in  the  procession,  each  with  a 
miniature  flag  of  Cuba  on  his  coat  and  “ Cuba 
Libre”  on  his  badge.  They  objected  to  the 
Spaniards  on  the  ground  that  the  celebration 
was  in  honor  of  liberty  and  a patriot,  to  neither 
of  which  virtues  could  Spain  lay  claim  while 
Cuba  was  breathing  her  life  out  in  a death 
struggle,  and  the  police  had  to  intervene  to  pre- 
vent blood-shed  over  the  patriot’s  grave. 

By  the  decree  of  Juarez,  there  came  to  Mexico 
freedom  from  a worse  slavery  than  that  which 
darkened  our  shores;  the  slavery  of  the  Romish 
Church.  The  Catholic  religion  still  prevails, 
but  it  is  a Juggernaut  with  pneumatic  tires,  and 
it  runs  a course  lined  with  bayonets.  There 
are  millions  of  benighted  adherents  yet  under 
the  spell  of  the  priesthood,  but  Protestant 
churches  are  springing  up  everywhere  with  the 
free  bible.  After  the  wonderful  achievements  of 
the  Juarez  administration,  it  seems  remarkable 


218 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


how  conspicuous  by  its  absence  is  the  Indian 
face  from  public  affairs  in  Mexico.  She  has  a 
standing  army  of  over  45,000  men,  but  all  its 
officers  are  white,  and  the  same  is  true  of  the 
police  force,  and  the  military  bands  whose  rank 
and  file  are  of  Indian  blood  have  the  leaders 
white.  The  students  of  the  military  academy 
are  white,  so  are  all  members  of  congress,  the 
superintendent  of  public  works  and  all  places  of 
trust,  although  legally,  every  man  of  age  is 
privileged  to  vote  and  hold  office. 

But  behind  the  law  are  the  leges  non  scriptai , 
the  spirit  of  social  caste,  as  broad  as  the  leagues 
of  territory,  and  as  powerful  as  a Corliss  engine. 
The  Indian’s  face  is  no  debar  from  good  society 
nor  a residence  in  any  part  of  the  city  where  he 
may  buy,  but  the  old  regime  of  Spaniard  and 
Indian,  master  and  servant,  has  taken  deep  root 
and  is  still  aspowerfully  in  evidence  as  in  the  slave 
states  of  America.  Of  the  twelve  million  inhabi- 
tants, one-third  are  pure  Indians,  speaking  a 
hundred  and  twenty  different  languages.  One- 
half  are  Mestizos  or  mixed  races,  and  the  re- 
maining one- sixth  are  foreigners,  the  Spaniards 
predominating,  and  the  remnant  is  the  govern- 
ing power. 

Public  opinion  in  Mexico  has  been  defined  as 
“ the  opinion  entertained  by  the  president;”  and 
this  is  almost  absolutely  true,  if  you  may  also 
add  a few  thousand  land  owners,  professional 
men,  professors  and  students.  The  rest  do  not 
count.  No  such  thing  as  a public  mass  meeting 
to  discuss  public  questions  has  ever  taken  place 
in  Mexico.  A presidential  canvass  simply  means 
that  the  candidate  ’who  first  gets  control  of  the 
army  gets  elected,  but  a campaign,  never. 


Within  the  Gates. 


219 


While  every  adult  male  citizen  has  a right  to 
vote,  less  than  thirty  thousand  votes  are  cast  in 
a presidential  election,  and-  the  great  mass  of 
the  people  never  know  there  is  a change  unless 
there  is  a revolution. 

One  day  before  the  election  I saw  a two-line 
announcement  in  an  American  paper  published  in 
the  city  which  said:  “Tomorrow  the  citizens 
of  Mexico  will  elect  a president.”  Early  the 
next  morning  I was  on  the  street  expecting  a 
great  excitement  or  patriotic  demonstration,  but 
not  a cog  of  that  great  wheel  of  industry  missed  a 
revolution.  About  ten  o’clock  I began  to  ask  peo- 
ple about  the  election,  but  no  one  could  give  me  a 
word  of  information.  I wTent  to  the  National 
Palace  and  everything  was  going  on  as  usual.  I 
asked  a number  of  people  where  could  I find  the 
voting  places,  but  got  no  information  whatever, 
and  I began  to  think  the  announcement  was  a 
canard.  Two  days  afterwards  I was  in  'the 
state  of  Vera  Cruz  and  saw  in  another  paper 
the  following  election  news : “Porfirio  Diaz 
was  unanimously  elected  president  of  Mexico 
for  the  fifth  time.”  That  was  all.  I had  been 
on  the  streets  the  whole  of  election  day  and 
could  not  find  a single  person  who  could  tell  me 
of  the  election. 

To  differ  in  speech  or  newspaper  from  the 
policy  of  the  party  in  power  is  to  prepare  your 
own  grave  for  treason,  or  for  banishment,  so 
those  wh.o  have  a grievance  against  the  govern- 
ment have  no  recourse  by  electing  a better 
governing  power,  so  they  simply  wait  till  they 
feel  strong  enough  and  find  a man  to  issue  a 
“ Pron-unciamento,”  and  a revolution  is  born, 
and  sad  but  true,  there  is  no  other  way.  Free 


220 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


speech  and  mass-meetings  and  opposition  can- 
didates are  unknown  except  at  the  point  of  a 
ba.yonet.  Excepting  Juarez,  the  Indian,  Porfirio 
Diaz — who  is  part  Indian  of  the  same  tribe  ns 
Juarez — is  the  most  progressive  president  the 
country  has  ever  had,  and  the  constitution  was 
changed  so  he  might  succeed  himself  and  thus 
complete  the  good  work  he  inaugurated,  but 
Diaz’s  first  term  was  gained  at  the  head  of  a 
revolution.  He  was  a candidate  in  1871,  and  in 
the  election  only  12,081  votes  were  cast,  of 
which  Juarez  received  5,887,  Diaz  8,555,  and 
Lerdo  2,874.  Diaz  refused  to  abide  by  the  de- 
cision and  issued  a manifesto  and  entered  the 
capital  at  the  head  of  an  army,  assumed  the 
presidency,  had  the  people  ratify  his  proceed- 
ings, and  then  proceeded  to  build  railroads  and 
encourage  foreign  capital  to  come  in  and  rehabili- 
tate the  wasted  country,  and,  regardless  of  fear 
or  favor,  has  created  the  modern  Mexico.  So 
successful  was  he  that  the  people  decided  it  was 
better  to  keep  him  than  have  the  annual  revolu- 
tion, so  the  constitution  which  Juarez  had 
framed  'was  changed  to  permit  him  to  succeed 
himself,  which  he  has  done  so  well  that  he  is 
serving  his  fifth  term,  but  not  all  consecutively. 

Cardinal  Newman  on^e  said:  “To  be  per- 
fect, one  must  have  changed  often.”  If  that  be 
true,  the  government  of  Mexico  ought  to  bo 
pluperfect  by  now.  Since  her  Independence  in 
1821,  she  has  had  fifty-seven  presidents,  two 
emperors  and  one  regency,  and  with  possibly 
four  exceptions,  each  change  of  administration 
was  attended  by  violence. 

In  1848  occurred  the  first  change  without 
violence,  but  Arista  was  banished  in  the  next  twTo 


Within  the  Gates. 


221 


years,  and  in  the  next  three  months  there  were 
four  presidents,  which  brings  the  average  up  to 
normal.  What  a bonanza  for  the  Salt  River 
candidates  of  the  United  States ! 

When  you  visit  the  picture  gallery  of  the 
National  Palace,  the  guide  will  say:  “This  is 
president  so-and-so,  elected  at  such  a date,  and 
who  was  shot  at  such  a time.  And  this  is  presi- 
dent so-and-so,  who  was  shot  at  such  a date.” 

All  the  leaders  of  the  war  of  Independence 
were  shot, so  were  both  the  emperors,  and  nearly 
all  the  presidents  were  shot  or  banished.  These 
presidential  shooting  matches  have  made  the 
country  a land  of  experts  in  teaching  the  young 
idea  how  to  shoot.  Whenever  the  winning  man 
has  secured  the  army  and  re-entered  the  capital, 
the  other  fellows,  in  the  language  of  General 
Crook,  “rise  like  a flock  of  quail  and  light  run- 
ning.” 


CHAPTER  XI Y. 


THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  TANGLE"FOOT. 

N THE  plains  of  Tlaxcala,  Apam  and 


Puebla,  in  the  rich  lava  beds,  and  on  the 


desert  which  is  so  poor  one  can  hardly 


raise  a disturbance  on  it,  are  millions  of  acres 
of  land  devoted  to  the  culture  of  the  maguey 
and  the  preparation  of  one  of  the  vilest  drinks 
known  to  man. 

The  century  plant,  the  agave,  the  aloe  and 
the  maguey  are  one  and  the  same.  It  is  called 
century  plant,  because  outside  of  the  tropics  it 
might  live  a hundred  years  and  never  bloom, 
like  our  Louisiana  sugar-cane;  but  here  in  Mexico 
from  six  to  fourteen  years  are  sufficient  for  its 
maturity,  as  it  requires  that  much  time  to 
accumulate  enough  vitality  for  its  crowning 
effort  in  life — the  propagation  of  seed.  When 
it  has  reached  this  stage  it  shoots  up  a central 
stalk  a foot  in  diameter  and  twenty  feet  high, 
crowned  by  a panicle  of  beautiful  greenish-yel- 
low flowers,  and  then  the  plant  dies  down  as 
completely  as  any  annual. 

But  the  pulque  farmer  does  not  permit  the 
plant  to  blossom.  When  it  shows  indication  of 
shooting  up  its  central  bud  as  large  as  a cabbage, 
the  same  is  cut  out,  leaving  a cavity  capable  of 
holding  four  or  five  quarts.  Into  this  cavity 


222 


The  Trail  of  the  Tangle-Foot.  223 

the  sap  collects  and  is  sold  as  agua  miel  or 
honey  water.  After  twenty-four  hours  fermen- 
tation it  becomes  pulque,  the  national  drink  of 
Mexico,  for,  of  the  350,000  inhabitants  of  the 
capital,  250,000  are  pulque  drinkers.  A single 
plant  can  he  milked  five  months  and  in  that 
time  will  produce  one  hundred  and  sixty  gallons 
of  pulque.  Each  morning  a small  army  of 
pulque  gatherers  will  enter  the  field  with  long 
calabashes  or  gourds,  through  which  they  suck 
up  the  pulque  on  the  siphon  principle,  and  inject 
it  into  the  pig-skin  bottle  held  on  the  back  by  a 
band  around  the  forehead.  This  skin-bottle  is 
the  same  that  is  mentioned  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment and  is  secured  entire  from  the  animal,  and 
’with  the  ends  at  the  hoof  tied  and  loaded  with 
pulque,  has  the  exact  semblance  of  a hog  on  a 
man’s  shoulder.  The  pulque  must  reach  market 
the  same  day  it  is  gathered,  as  it  becomes  vine- 
gar within  tweiAty-four  hours,  so  special  pulque 
trains  run  on  all  roads  entering  the  city. 

Seventy  five  thousand  gallons  is  the  daily 
consumption  in  the  City  of  Mexico,  and  the 
railroads  make  a thousand  dollars  a day  for 
carriage,  and  the  custom  houses  collect  on  each 
gallon  as  it  enters  the  garitas  or  city  gates. 
When  the  sap  first  appears  it  is  greenish  in  color 
and  sweet,  hence  its  name  of  agua  miel , or 
honey  water.  Carbonic  acid  soon  collects  as 
fermentation  advances,  and  then  it  is  called 
pulque.  Pulque  has  the  color  of  soapsuds, 
almost  the  consistency  of  molasses  and  a com- 
pound taste  not  found  in  the  dictionary  nor 
listed  in  Materia  Medica.  As  to  smell,  it  is  a 
cross  between  a slaughter  house  and  a compost 
heap  of  decaying  vegetables.  Fermentation  is 


224 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


so  rapid  it  would  explode  a cask  in  a few  min- 
utes, so  the  gatherers  empty  it  from  the  pigskins 
into  tinnacals  or  ox  hides  strapped  to  a wooden 
frame.  To  retard  fermentation,  it  is  poured 
into  vats  and  a little  milk  and  rennet  are  added, 
which  do  not  quite  coagulate  it,  but  give  it  the 
aromatic  odor  of  Limburger  cheese.  From  these 
vats  it  is  loaded  on  the  trains  and  hurried  to  the 
city  where  it  is  again  transferred  in  pigskin  to 
wagons  loaded  with  hogsheads  with  the  bung 
open . In  front  of  the  retail  pulqueria,  the  wagon 
stops  and  the  final  unloading  begins.  A hogs- 
head as  turned  on  its  side  at  the  rear  of  the 
wagon  and  the  spigot  is  pulled,  and  the  ropy 
liquid  is  passed  through  a large  funnel  into  a 
pigskin  on  the  ground,  by  passing  through  a 
leg.  This  pigskin  holds  as  much  as  a beer  keg, 
and  when  full,  the  huge  porter  replaces  the 
spigot,  wraps  a string  around  the  leg  and 
shoulders  the  pig  which  looks  natural  enough  to 
squeal.  The  porter  empties  this  into  five  or  six 
huge  casks  which  are  setting  on  the  counter, 
where  the  dealers  dole  it  out  at  a cent  a glass 
to  the  hundreds  who  push  and  fight  for  standing 
room  until  the  last  cask  is  empty,  and  a similar 
scene  will  take  place  every  day  in  the  year. 

Just  opposite  my  window  I watched  a crowd 
for  hours  that  had  overflowed  the  sidewalk 
struggling  to  get  inside  and  they  did  not  thin 
out  till  ten  barrels  had  been  emptied,  which 
means  five  hundred  gallons.  And  the  same  is 
true  for  every  pulqueria  in  the  city  from  the 
time  the  first  train  load  arrives  till  every  cask 
is  empty.  Pulquerias  have  no  written  sign,  but 
over  each  door  is  a plaited  awning  of  green 
maguey  leaves  which  has  all  the  power  that  an 


The  Trail  of  the  Tangle-Foot.  225 

electric  lamp  has  to  swarms  of  night  insects. 
At  one  cent  a drink,  even  the  paupers  can  get 
gloriously  inflated,  and  it  takes  half  the  police 
force  to  drag  off  those  who  find  the  streets  too 
narrow  for  their  new  style  of  perambulating. 

The  ordinary  simon  pure  pulque  is  just  liquid 
filth,  no  more,  no  less.  Private  families  remove 
the  Limburger  essence  by  means  of  a harmless 
chemical  and  add  sugar  and  orange  juice,  but 
the  dealer  at  the  pulque  joint  knows  better; 
he  adds  a quantity  of  marihuana  to  the  cask, 
and  presto ! he  has  the  regulation  Kentucky 
tangle-foot,  warranted  to  kill  at  forty  rods. 
With  one  or  two  drinks  of  this,  the  Mexican’s 
eyes  look  two  ways  at  once,  and  he  just  spoils 
for  a fight,  and  at  once  hunts  some  one  to  dis- 
agree with  him.  He  will  walk  up  to  a stranger 
and  look  him  over  in  a zigzag  way  and  say: 
“ Viva  MejicoP  The  other  fellow  was  just 
out  hunting  ducks  himself,  so  he  replies : “ Viva 
Fspaniaf  or  “ Viva  Cuba  Libre , ” and  then 
their  heads  and  feet  change  places,  and  when 
they  come  to  their  senses  they  are  lying  on  the 
soft  side  of  a stone  floor  in  the  “ husga  ” and 
wondering  “ Who  struck  Billy  Patterson After 
witnessing  the  surging,  seething  mass  of  frenzied 
men  and  women  with  their  savage  Indian  nature 
all  ablaze  with  pulque,  no  one  longer  wonders 
at  the  large  number  of  police  he  meets.  The 
government  is  absolutely  powerless  to  stop  the 
sale  of  drugged  pulque,  and  the  number  of 
deaths  annually  from  pulque  fights  is  incredible. 
In  one  year,  the  number  of  fights  with  knives 
alone  was  over  six  thousand  in  the  capital. 
I know  of  no  more  dangerous  animal  than  a 
Mexican  loaded  with  pulque  and  marihuana, 


226  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

face  distorted  and  blood-shot  eyes  aflame,  and  a 
knife  in  his  belt.  Blood  is  his  glory  and  he 
loves  a long  knife  which  he  can  throw  thirty  feet 
with  the  accuracy  of  a pistol  bullet. 

Outside  the  cities  the  duello  is  the  code  of 
honor  and  the  long  knife  the  peacemaker. 
Among  the  cow  boys  and  miners  the  friends  of 
each  tie  their  left  hands  together  and  stick  a 
bowie-knife  in  the  ground  by  each  and  walk  off. 
The  one  that  lives  longest  may  cut  the  cords 
and  come  back  to  camp.  If  neither  returns  the 
boys  know  that  they  crossed  the  Styx  together. 
Pulque  is  not  the  only  drink  made  from  the 
maguey,  it  is  only  the  swill  of  the  great  un- 
washed. For  the  more  epicurean  tastes  the 
root  of  the  plant  is  roasted  and  distilled  and 
from  the  product  is  a fiery  liquid,  which  for 
courtesy  is  called  mescal,  but  in  reality  is  molten 
lava,  and  its  nearest  kin  is  another  distillation 
called  tequila,  which  is  almost'  pure  alcohol. 
They  are  sold  in  saloons  at  three  cents  a drink, 
and  the  American  who  attempts  to  wrestle  with 
the  monster  takes  a glass  of  mescal  and  a glass 
of  water  and  tries  to  swallow  them  both  at  the 
same  moment  in  order  to  keep  the  lining  of  his 
throat  from  scalding  off  as  the  lava  goes  down. 
The  native,  to  show  his  contempt  for  the  method, 
will  look  you  in  the  eye  and  drink  the  fiery 
liquid  without  wTater.  It  brings  water  to  his 
eyes,  and  the  clotted  blood-shot  spots  appear 
almost  as  rapidly  as  the  shades  of  a chameleon 
on  a rose  bush.  I saw  a maniac  suffering  with 
delirium  tremens  from  mescal,  and  a more  pitiable 
object  I have  never  seen.  How  he  pleaded  and 
begged  for  three  cents,  offering  his  soul  in 
exchange  just  for  one  more  drink  before  he  died. 


The  Trail  of  the,  Tangle- Foot. 


227 


I went  to  a restaurant  and  got  him  some  soup 
and  it  had  the  effect  of  water  upon  a hydropho- 
bia victim  and  I can  only  liken  him  to  a caged 
hyena. 

The  maguey  must  not  be  called  a profligate 
because  it  gives  birth  to  five  different  intoxi- 
cating drinks ; it  serves  other  purposes  as  well. 
From  the  leaves  the  natives  thatch  their  houses, 
and  the  spines  make  needles  and  pins.  The 
fibre  of  the  leaf  is  used  in  making  rope,  wrapping- 
twine,  hammocks,  sisal,  mats,  carpets,  hair- 
brushes, brooms,  baskets,  paper  and  thread, 
firewood,  and  from  the  roots  a very  palatable 
food  is  made,  and  upon  its  bountiful  leaves  there 
feeds  an  army  of  green  caterpillars  about  the  size 
of  your  middle  finger,  and  epicures  do  say  that 
when  they  are  properly  stewed  and  set  before 
you  that  you  forget  all  about  clam -bakes  and 
gumbo  soup  and  shrimp-pies  and  edible  birds’ 
nests  and  just  concentrate  your  mind  upon  the 
gusanas  de  la  maguey,  to  all  of  which  I say 
amen.  I had  to  concentrate  all  of  my  attention 
and  other  things,  too,  to  prevent  a violent 
volcanic  eruption  just  looking  at  the  tempting 
morsel.  I do  not  doubt  the  epicures  in  the 
least ; on  the  contrary,  I had  so  much  faith  in 
their  judgment  that  I was  willing  to  take  their 
word  without  the  caterpillars.  But  I did  eat  one 
dozen — by  proxy,  that  is  paying  for  them  and 
enjoying  that  consumptive  Mexican’s  appetite 
as  the  whole  dozen  followed  each  other  down 
the  chute,  but  I might  add,  I had  to  put  a 
weight  on  my  stomach  to  avoid — well  a catastro- 
phe. 

The  maguey  is  absolutely  independent  of  rain 
or  moisture.  It  grows  on  the  mesa  that  does 


228 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


not  got  n rain  in  six  years.  It  is  a bulbous 
plant  and  multiplies  by  suckers  set  in  holes. 
The  usual  method  is  to  take  a crow-bar  and  dig 
a ho'e  among  the  rocks  and  give  it  just  enough 
earth  to  hold  the  roots  and  it  will  do  the  rest. 
There  is  nothing  more  beautiful  than  a maguey 
farm  on*  the  plains  of  Tlaxcala,  with  the  plants 
set  ten  feet  each  way  and  spread  over  the  plain 
for  forty  or  fifty  miles.  The  plants  are  so  green 
they  seem  to  have  a blue  tint,  and  the  rows  are 
so  symmetrical,  no  matter  which  way  you  look, 
your  vision  will  focus  to  a point  in  the  distance 
where  all  rows  converge  to  the  vanishing  point 
like  the  rails  of  a railroad  on  level  ground.  For 
a hundred  miles  south  of  the  capital,  every 
available  rod  of  ground  is  planted  in  maguey 
which  grows  without  any  cultivation  whatever, 
and  will  yield  to  the  farmer  ten  dollars  to  the 
stalk  during  the  single  five  months  of  its  pro- 
ductive period.  No  field  gets  ripe  at  once.  An 
acre  with  several  hundred  stacks  may  not  have 
two  dozen  to  come  to  maturity  this  year,  and  as 
soon  as  they  are  exhausted  new  bulbs  are  set  in 
their  stead,  which  makes  a perpetual  orchard. 
A plant  that  is  to  mature  this  year  is  easily 
known  by  the  bleaching  of  the  leaves  as  it  j ields 
its  last  vitality  to  the  central  bud. 

Whenever  the  train  stops,  hordes  of  women 
gather  around  to  sell  to  the  passengers  from 
earthen-ware  vessels  at  a cent  a drink.  As  the 
passenger  lifts  the  putrid  liquid,  the  dripping 
vessel  leaves  a trail  of  viscid  streamers,  like  the 
gossamers  of  the  bridging  spider,  or  the  saliva 
from  an  ox  under  the  yoke,  and  especially  if  the 
wind  is  blowing,  the  network  of  sticky  pulque 
streamers  from  car  window’s  is  just  about  as 


The  Trail  of  the  Tangle-Foot. 


pleasant  as  the  opening  chorus  of  a candy-pull- 
ing, or  the  closing  scene  at  a turpentine  still. 

In  the  families  of  the  Spanish  and  French, 
pulque  is  never  taken,  but  wines,  champagne 
and  sherry,  are  the  household  drinks,  and  the 
great  national  drink  of  America,  lager  beer,  is 
slowly  adding  the  dignified  William  goat  and 
the  overflowing  schooner  to  the  pictorial  deco- 
rations of  the  Mexican  house-fronts.  The 
amount  of  liquid  refreshments  these  people,  es- 
pecially the  women,  can  embrace  within  their 
anatomy  is  astonishing.  The  dinner  hour  is 
prolonged  from  one  to  two  hours  in  conversation 
and  guzzling,  and  wThen  a gentleman  sees  a 
lady’s  glass  empty  at  any  part  of  the  table,  it 
is  customary  for  him  to  walk  around  to  her 
chair  and  fill  the  glass  from  his  bottle  ; and  these 
opportunities  are  eagerly  sought  by  the  watch- 
ful men,  as  it  indicates  a lack  of  attention  to 
permit  a lady’s  glass  to  become  empty.  But  I 
have  never  seen  this  class  of  people  drunk  or 
tipsy.  The  liquor  must  be  very  weak  to  permit 
so  many  bottles  being  emptied  wfithout  a knock- 
out. 

A young  Mexican  at  Guadalupe  attempted  to 
make  his  national  drink  aristocratic  by  giving 
it  a lofty  name.  He  asked  me  if  I would  not 
seal  our  good  friendship  by  joining  him  in  a 
glass  of  vino  bianco.  I told  him  I did  not  knowT 
what  white  wine  was,  as  red  was  the  only  fast 
color  the  Americans  patronized,  but  I would  seal 
the  friendship  all  right  and  let  him  drink  for 
both  of  us.  To  this  he  raised  not  a particle  of 
objection.  I doubt  if  any  such  magnanimous 
windfall  had  ever  come  his  wTay  before  when  he 
could  drink  for  two.  He  landed  me  in  a pulque 


230  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

joint  and  this  was  my  awakening  to  the  vino 
bianco. 

I had  come  in  search  of  knowledge,  and  found 
it  by  means  of  my  nose,  which  I had  to  hold 
while  I grandiloquently  told  him  to  “tank  up.” 
The  proprietor  brought  him  a half  gallon  rancid 
soapsuds,  which  he  first  offered  me.  I backed 
off  and  told  him  I had  not  done  a thing  to  him 
to  deserve  such  punishment,  and  besides,  soap- 
suds more  than  a w'eek  old  alwmys  wTent  against 
my  constitution  and  by-law's,  and  that  I was 
subject  to  heart-failure  anyway,  and  had  to 
guard  against  undue  exertion,  such  as  vomiting, 
etc.  He  said  it  was  not  soapsuds,  but  “ vino 
bianco ,”  (pulque  neuva),  and  if  I did  not  be- 
lieve it  wras  newT  pulque,  just  smell.  I told  him 
that  was  exactly  what  ailed  me  now,  I had 
smelled  and  was  leaning  against  the  counter  on 
account  of  it,  and  if  he  would  just  let  me  off 
I w^ould  burn  a candle  to  his  choice  saint.  After 
my  friend  had  “tanked  up”  and  swallowed 
most  of  the  fragrance,  I was  able  to  stand  up 
once  more,  and  then  I very  kindly  asked  that 
proprietor  if  he  did  not  think  that  stuff  was  ripe 
enough  to  bury.  I said,  “Sir,  in  my  country 
when  a corpse  is  kept  till  the  flies  swarm  in  the 
house,  it  is  a sure  sign  that  it  is  time  for  the 
funeral.  Nowt  sir,  just  look  at  the  flies.”  “0 
yes,”  said  he,  “ los  muscos  love  vino  bianco 
also,  and  they  come  because  they  know  a good 
thing  when  they  se— smell  it.”  Now  what  was 
the  use  of  wasting  logic  on  this  logician  ? So 
my  friend  and  I entered  the  street.  It  was  a 
wTarm  day,  and  while  we  had  argued,  I think  the 
heat  had  contracted  the  street.  At  any  rate  it 
was  much  too  narrow  for  my  friend  and  his  vino 


The  Trail  of  the  Tangle-Foot.  231 

bianco , and  he  and  a lamp-post  had  quite  an 
argument  about  who  had  the  right  of  way. 

I think  the  post  must  have  hit  him  below  the 
belt  from  the  way  he  fell  out,  and  with  the 
guilt  of  the  act  resting  so  heavy  on  my  con- 
science I fled  from  the  scene  and  vowed  I would 
never  buy  soapsuds  any  more  for  my  poor,  mar- 
tyred Guadalupe  guide. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  CITY  OF  THE  ANGELS. 

y A PUERLA  DE  LOS  ANGELOS  is  the 
: authorized  version  of  the  sacred  city, 

-i — but  Puebla”  serves  for  all  ordinary  uses. 
This  city  is  seventy-five  miles  southeast  of  the 
capital.  It  is  not  on  account  of  its  transcen- 
dent beauty  or  rare  virtue  that  it  is  called  the 
City  of  the  Angels,  but  from  its  wonderful 
history,  woven  into  mystic  legends  by  the  zeal- 
ous priests.  And  for  the  story: 

‘ ‘ Once  upon  a time,  ’ ’ as  all  good  stories  should 
begin,  the  Indians  saw  angels  hovering  over  the 
place  when  it  was  an  Indian  village,  before  the 
Conquest,  and  hence  its  name.  Another  version 
is  that  one  of  the  good  bishops  was  looking  for 
a site  on  which  to  build  a town,  and  in  his 
dream  saw  a vision  of  two  angels  measuring 
town  lots  on  the  border  hills  of  a beautiful  plain, 
and  went  right  out  and  found  the  place  where 
Puebla  now  stands  to  agree  with  his  dream,  and 
forthwith  founded  the  city.  Still  a more  recent 
explanation  is  given,  that  when  they  were  build- 
ing the  church,  angels  built  as  much  wall  by 
night  as  the  workmen  built  by  day;  and  if  you 
are  disposed  to  doubt  the  statement,  why,  they 
show  you  the  church  itself,  which  ought  to  con- 
vince the  most  skeptical. 


232 


The  City  of  the  Angels.  233 

The  cathedral  is  built  of  massive  basalt,  and 
is  thought  by  many  to  be  much  finer  than  the 
cathedral  of  the  capital.  It  fronts  the  Plaza 
Mayor,  and  is  built  upon  a platform  of  porphyry 
with  Doric  and  Ionic  superstructure.  The  in- 
side is  bedizened  with  glitter  and  tawdry  jim- 
cracks  as  usual,  entirely  out  of  keeping  with  the 
beauty  and  magnificence  of  the  building.  The 
main  altar  is  gilded  with  gold  to  the  value  of  a 
hundred  thousand  dollars,  and  before  Maximil- 
ian’s time  there  hung  from  the  ceiling  a famous 
chandelier  of  pure  gold,  also  valued  at  a hun- 
dred thousand  dollars.  The  church  party  was 
backing  Maximilian,  so  the  lamp  was  melted 
into  coin  to  pay  the  army.  In  the  towers  are 
eighteen  bells,  the  largest  weighing  ten  tons. 
Why  these  churches  have  so  many  bells  that  are 
not  rung,  and  have  no  chimes  is  another  of  the 
unanswered  questions,  and  must  remain  so  un- 
til the  last  call.  The  pulpit  is  of  pure  onyx, 
and  the  floor  of  glistening  marble,  and  over  the 
door-way  is  the  insignia  of  the  Golden  Fleece. 
The  two  grand  organs  are  encased  and  decorated 
with  as  fine  work  of  sculpture  as  can  be  found 
anywhere,  and  the  walls  are  lined  with  costly 
paintings.  Of  course  here  is  shown  a piece  of 
the  original  crown  of  thorns. 

In  the  church  of  San  Francisco  is  a doll  brought 
over  by  Cortez  and  carried  by  him  through 
all  his  campaigns.  It  is  an  image  of  the  Virgin, 
and  the  benighted  natives  venerate  it  as  though 
it  were  a god,  and  this  is  but  an  index  to  the 
Christianity  of  the  country.  The  name  of 
Christ  is  rarely  heard,  and  the  name  of  Jesus  is 
so  secular  that  you  may  go  into  a hotel  corridor 
and  say  “Jesus!”  and  a half  dozen  men  will  an- 


234  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

swer  and  come  to  you.  Go  into  any  crowd  and 
say  the  same  word,  and  there  will  always  be 
some  one  named  Jesus,  and  possibly  several.  It 
is  rather  painful  to  your  piety  to  have  some 
bandit  try  to  pass  a pewter  quarter  on  you  or  to 
keep  the  odd  cents  in  a trade,  and  then  to  know 
the  rascal  is  named  Jesus  Maria  Magdalene. 
There  is  not  a Christ  Church  to  be  found  in  all 
this  land  of  churches,  and  as  a means  of  saving 
grace,  Christ  is  not  counted.  In  the  Mexican 
Catholic  Church,  the  people  pray  to  the  powers 
in  the  order  of  their  importance;  first  to  the 
Mother  of  God,  “Most  Holy  Mother, ” second, 
to  the  saints,  and  lastly  they  mention  the  name 
of  the  Infant  Jesus  as  being  the  son  of  Mary. 
In  the  prayers  and  in  the  sermons  and  in  the 
paintings  he  is  always  figured  as  an  infant  in 
the  arms  of  the  Virgin,  or  the  Man  of  Sorrows 
with  his  heart  on  the  outside  of  his  anatomy. 
After  looking  at  a thousand  such  pictures  one  is 
tempted  to  believe  that  the  X ray  is  not  such  a 
modern  innovation  after  all.  In  the  case  of  the 
twelve  stations  on  the  march  to  Calvary,  with 
the  aid  of  red  paint  all  the  horrors  and  mental 
anguish  that  the  human  frame  can  endure  are 
displayed  in  life-size  as  a scourge  to  the  laggard 
believer. 

I do  not  fancy  the  poetry  of  Burns,  but  these 
grewsome  images  of  wax  and  papier  mache  with 
the  real  thorns  on  his  head  and  the  red  paint 
gore  dripping  everywhere,  always  recall  the 
lines : 

u The  fear  o’  hell’s  the  hangman’s  whip, 

To  haud  the  wretch  in  order.” 

The  impression  it  always  makes  on  me  is  that 
the  threat  is  always  implied:  “ If  you  do  not 


The  City  of  the  Angels.  235 

repent,  you  will  be  treated  in  the  same  manner,” 
and  I honestly  believe  the  Indians  so  interpret  it. 
In  the  nave  of  these  churches  are  hung  the 
twelve  apostles,  in  all  stages  of  ancient  martyr- 
dom and  modern  dilapidation.  Statues  with 
broken  or  missing  legs  and  streams  of  red  paint 
gore  pouring  in  congealed  rivulets  from  Roman 
scourges  and  spear-points  savor  more  of  the 
bull-ring  than  of  a sanctuary.  On  the  altar  is  a 
copy  of  the  Holy  Bible  containing  the  Old  and 
New  Testaments,  translated  out  of  the  original 
tongues, and  withthe  former  translations  diligent- 
ly compared  and  revised;  but  out  of  its  lids  of 
solid  silver  bedecked  ^ith  ribbons  and  symbols, 
they  hear  not  a word  of  Christian  living,  nor  of 
the  beautiful  life  of  Christ,  nor  of  their  duty  to 
their  fellow  man,  but  prostrate  before  these  gory 
statues  the  worshipers  go  round  and  round, 
counting  their  beads  and  crossing  themselves 
and  gazing  upon  the  ghastly  anatomies  before 
them,  and  this  is  their  worship.  If  they  are  op- 
pressed with  the  weight  of  earthly  sins  they  are 
told  to  pray  to  the  Holy  Mother  of  God  to  inter- 
cede with  St.  Peter  in  behalf  of  the  afflicted 
one,  and  in  addition  to  burn  candles  upon  the 
altar  of  Saint  Francis  or  Saint  Xavier,  who  have 
the  contract  to  use  their  good  offices  in  behalf  of 
the  sinner,  said  sinner  guaranteeing  to  burn  so 
many  candles  in  acknowledgement,  which 
candles  can  be  had  from  the  church  commissary 
two  doors  to  the  rear  on  the  right.  And  this 
is  the  substitute  the  Aztecs  got  by  renouncing 
their  idolatry.  They  asked  bread  and  received  a 
stone. 

Puebla  is  called  the  City  of  the  Angels,  but  it 
ought  to  be  called  the  City  of  Churches.  This 


236  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

was  always  the  bulwark  of  the  Church  of  Rome 
in.the  New  World  and  was  the  last  to  succumb 
to  the  new  order  of  things  under  Juarez.  This 
is  the  city  that  backed  Maximilian  in  his  fight 
against  the  patriots  and  quartered  the  French 
army  for  seven  years,  and  where  the  auto-de-fe 
of  the  Inquisition  was  pushed  with  all  the  zeal  of 
Torquemada.  When  Juarez  destroyed  the 
church  party,  Pueblo  had  a dozen  nunneries  and 
as  many  monasteries,  with  all  their  concomitant 
cess-pools  of  vice,  as  Maria  Monk  so  vividly 
describes  in  her  Montreal  experience.  Under 
the  liberal  educational  crusade  of  President 
Diaz,  the  people  are  becoming  too  enlightened 
to  ever  revert  to  the  old  regime. 

Puebla  is  a city  of  a hundred  thousand  inhab- 
itants and  ranks  as  the  fourth  city  in  importance. 
It  is  the  market  for  the  beautiful  onyx  which  is 
mined  near  the  city.  It  is  in  a fertile  valley,  and 
for  miles  and  miles  to  the  rim  of  the  mesa  lies 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  scenes  within  the 
Republic.  Three  volcanoes  and  three  other 
snow-capped  peaks  overlook  the  city.  From 
Mount  Malinche  the  city  I think  gets  its  pure 
water  brought  by  aqueducts.  Puebla  is  the 
key  to  the  country  in  time  of  war  as  it  commands 
the  approach  to  the  sea.«  It  was  captured  by 
Iturbide,  Aug.  2,  1821 ; by  Scott,  May  25,  1847 ; 
occupied  by  the  French,  May  5,  1862;  captured 
by  the  French,  May  17,  1863 ; Recaptured  by 
the  Mexicans,  Apr.  3,  1867.  The  old  fort  on 
the  Hill  of  Guadalupe  must  be  visited.  Here 
the  Mexicans  under  Porfirio  Diaz  defeated  a 
veteran  French  army  May  5,  1862,  and  earned 
their  right, to  the  national  holiday  of  “ Cinco  de 
Mayo.” 


The  City  of  the  Angela. 


237 


Though  the  city  is  over  seven  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea,  the  valley  produces  everything, 
wheat,  rye,  cochineal,  maize,  cotton,  sugar,  rice, 
tobacco,  coal  and  iron,  stone  quarries,  and  lime 
and  kaolin  for  porcelain,  dye  woods,  and  all  kinds 
ot‘  tropical  fruit  in  luxuriance,  and  the  valleys  of 
alfalfa  feed  the  finest  beef  steers  it  has  ever 
been  my  good  fortune  to  see.  The  city  was 
built  in  1532  and  is  a model  of  neatness,  and  as 
no  animal  matter  decomposes  at  this  altitude 
the  presence  of  disagreeable  odors  is  unknown*. 
Six  railroads  enter  the  town  and  the  tramvias 
lead  to  many  interesting  suburbs.  Twenty-five 
miles  away  is  Popocatepetl,  but  wuth  no  forest 
or  hill  bi  tween  the  city  and  the  volcanoes  to  pro- 
portionate the  distance,  it  hardly  appears  five 
miles.  If  you  wish  to  ascend  the  volcanoes,  the 
Inter  Oceanic  train  stops  at  the  small  station  of 
Amecameca  at  the  foot,  wrhere  guides  and  a two 
days’  supply  of  provisions  are  furnished. 

Here  upon  the  second  highest  mountain  in 
America,  and  the  third  highest  in  the  world, 
you  may  sit  in  the  snowT  and  cool  yourself  off' 
after  the  exertion  of  the  climb.  I cooled  off  at 
the  bottom  and  climbed  it  by  proxy.  My  proxy 
said  the  viewT  from  the  crater  wTas  magnificent 
and  I felt  satisfied.  The  street-car  line  that 
leads  to  Cholula  passes  over  the  Atoyac  near 
the  city  across  a very  quaint,  old  arched  bridge, 
built  when  the  city  w*as  born.  About  five  hun- 
dred yards  to  the  right  of  the  track  is  the 
natural  wonder  of  Coxcomate.  From  the  car 
window  it  looks  like  a pile  of  white  stones  or  a 
well  bleached  haystack,  but  on  a nearer  ap- 
proach it  proves  to  be  a tumulus  of  w'hite  cal- 
careous stone,  evidently  of  water  formation, 


238  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

about  fifty  feet  in  height  and  a hundred  in 
diameter  at  the  base,  and  the  form  is  that  of  a 
truncated  cone.  At  the  apex  is  an  elliptical 
opening,  twenty-five  feet  along  its  minor  and 
fifty  along  its  major  axis.  It  is  a bell-shaped 
cavity  and  lined  with  ferns  of  various  descrip- 
tions. The  depth  is  about  a hundred  feet,  and 
its  width  along  the  bottom  about  sixty.  On  one 
side  of  the  bottom  is  a mass  of  gorgeous  ferns, 
and  on  the  other  a pool  of  water. 

Of  course  Coxcomate  has  it  legends.  One  is 
that  the  Aztecs  were  wont  to  worship  the  genius 
of  this  spot,  and  occasionally  to  throw  in  human 
victims  to  appease  his  subterranean  majesty. 
It  is  also  said  that  the  Spanish  Inquisition  used 
to  cast  in  heretics  and  leave  them  where  they 
could  calmly  meditate  upon  the  controverted 
points  of  doctrine.  Whatever  its  former  use,  it 
is  a curious  freak  of  nature,  situated  in  the 
midst  of  a level  plain.  It  seems  to  have  been  a 
volcanic  bubble,  of  which  there  are  many  in 
this  country. 

From  Puebla  a branch  road  takes  us  to  Santa 
Ana,  and  a tram-wray  from  there  to  ancient 
Tlaxcala,  the  capital  of  Tlaxcala.  Tlaxcala 
wras  a republic  in  ancient  times,  as  were  also 
Cholula  and  Huexotzinco,  and  these  were  life- 
long enemies  of  the  Aztecs ; and  it  was  by  fan- 
ning this  blaze  that  Cortez  united  them  to 
conquer  the  Aztecs,  and  to  the  Tlaxcalans  is  due 
the  credit  of  the  Conquest.  They  w^ere  faithful 
to  the  uttermost  to  the  Spaniards,  and  in  the 
first  defeat  gave  Cortez  a home  and  haven  un- 
til he  could  collect  another  army,  and  again  fol- 
lowed him,  this  time  to  victory.  Cortez  always 
appreciated  this  kindness,  and  it  is  here  in 


The  City  of  the  Angels. 


239 


squalid  little  Tlaxcala,  degenerated  into  a vil- 
lage of  five  thousand  diminutive  people,  that 
more  relics  of  Cortez  are  found  than  at  any 
other  place. 

The  municipal  palace  contains  four  oil  paint- 
ings bearing  the  date  of  the  Conquest,  and  the 
banner  of  Spain  which  Cortez  carried  through- 
out his  conquering  career.  The  material  is  of 
heavy  brocaded  silk  which  sadly  shows  its  age. 
It  is  nine  by  six  feet,  cut  swallow-tail  and  is 
nearly  perfect,  though  approaching  four  hundred 
years  old.  The  iron  spear-head  bears  the 
monogram  of  the  rulers  of  Spain,  and  the  origi- 
nal staff,  now  broken,  is  kept  with  it.  Immense 
sums  have  been  offered  for  it  from  Spain,  but 
the  Tlaxcalans  refuse  all  offers.  Here  are  also 
the  arms  of  Tlaxcala,  illuminated  on  parchment, 
and  bearing  the  signature  of  Charles  V.,  and 
the  standards  presented  to  the  chiefs  by  Cortez, 
as  well  as  the  robes  in  which  the  chiefs  were 
baptized.  Here  also  are  a collection  of  Tlax- 
calan  idols  and  the  treasure-chest  of  Cortez, 
which  was  locked  by  four  different  keys  and 
could  be  opened  only  when  all  four  guardians 
were  present  together.  Here  is  to  be  seen  the 
oldest  church  in  Mexico,  San  Francisco,  built 
three  hundred  and  eighty  years  ago,  under 
plans  furnished  by  Cortez  himself.  The  roof  is 
supported  by  carved  cedar  beams  brought  from 
Spain,  and  in  a little  chapel  is  the  original  pulpit 
from  which  the  Christian  religion  was  first 
preached  in  the  new  wrorld. 

Here  of  course  you  see  the  crude  figures  of 
bleeding  saints  and  sublimated  martyrs  and 
harrowing  crucifixions,  painted  in  all  their 
mangled  horrors  to  hold  in  awe  the  superstitious 


240  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

native.  As  the  Greek  boasts  forever  of  Mara- 
thon and  Thermopylae,  so  with  the  Tlaxcalans 
in  their  departed  glory.  A more  squalid  lot 
cannot  be  found  than  upon  the  sun  baked  mesa 
of  Tlaxcala.  Living  in  adobe  huts  and  filth 
and  rags,  it  requires  the  light  of  history  to  con- 
vince you  that  these  were  once  warriors  second 
to  none  in  the  valley,  who  boldly  met  the  Span- 
iards in  open  battle  when  first  they  saw  each 
other. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE  PYRAMID  OF  CHOLULA. 


“ Nations  melt 


From  Power’s  high  pinnacle, when  they  have  felt 
The  sunlight  fora  while  and  downward  go.” 

IGHT  miles  from  Puebla  in  the  midst  of 


the  vale  of  Atoyac  stands  the  sphinx  of 


-i- — ^ Cholula,  a pyramid  covering  forty- four 
acres  of  ground,  whose  base  is  one  thousand  four 
hundred  and  twenty-three  feet  and  whose  alti- 
tude is  one  hundred  and  seventy-seven  feet,  with 
a truncated  apex  two  hundred  feet  square.  This 
was  once  crowned  by  a temple,  but  now  b}7"  a 
church  called  Nuestro  Senora  de  los  Remedios. 
The  City  of  Cholula  was  the  sacred  city  of  the 
Aztecs,  but  the  pyramid  antedates  their  tradi- 
tion. When  it  was  built,  by  whom  and  for 
what  purpose  will  not  be  known  till  the  sea 
yields  up  its  dead,  but  there  it  stands  built  of 
brick,  twice  larger  than  Cheops,  and  so  over- 
grown with  trees  that  it  looks  like  a natural  hill. 
A winding  road  with  steps  leads  to  the  top, 
whence  a view  of  the  whole  valley  is  to  be  had. 

With  his  usual  exaggeration,  Cortez  said  that 
from  its  summit  four  hundred  heathen  temples 
could  be  seen.  At  present  the  town  of  Cholula 
contains  about  six  thousand  inhabitants,  and  I 
counted  only  fifty-four  church  steeples  seen  from 


241 


242 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


its  summit,  of  course  omitting  those  visible  in 
Puebla.  Naturally  Cholula  has  its  legends,  and 
what  ancient  edifice  has  not  ? The  Aztecs  knew 
nothing  of  the  history  of  the  pyramid.  Accord- 
ing to  Toltecan  tradition,  it  was  built  by  the 
followers  of  Quetzacoatl.  Among  all  nations  of 
Anahuac,  the  god  of  air  was  Quetzacoatl, 
“ Feather-decked-serpent,”  the  great,  good  and 
fair  god.  He  had  been  a high  priest  in  old  Tollan, 
and  according  to  all  the  statues  representing 
him,  was  bearded  and  had  a white  skin.  He 
was  a god  of  peace  and  discouraged  war  and 
animal  sacrifice,  and  introduced  the  culture  of 
maize  and  cotton  and  the  smelting  of  metals  and 
the  working  of  stone.  When  he  wished  to  pro- 
mulgate a law,  he  sent  a hero  whose  word  could 
be  heard  a hundred  leagues  away  to  proclaim  it 
from  the  summit  of  Tzatzitepetl,  ‘‘The  moun- 
tain of  clamors.”  Under  his  tutelary  care, 
maize  grew  to  such  a size  that  a single  ear  was 
all  a man  could  carry,  and  cotton  grew  with  all 
the  colors  already  in  it.  In  a word,  the  Aztecs 
believed  that  the  reign  of  Quetzacoatl  was  the 
golden  age  of  the  country. 

Tezcatlipoca  (shining  mirror)  was  the  prin- 
cipal god  next  to  Teotl,  having  descended  to 
earth  by  means  of  a spider’s  w'eb.  He,  fought 
with  the  high-priest  Quetzacoatl,  and  then  told 
him  it  was  the  will  of  the  gods  that  he  journey 
to  the  ancient  kingdom  of  Tlapallan.  Quetza- 
coatl was  escorted  out  by  a number  of  people 
singing  hymns,  and  finally  reached  Tolula.  His 
gentle  manners  and  integrity  -won  the  hearts  of 
the  Cholulans,  so  he  dwelt  with  them  and 
taught  them  the  arts  of  civilization,  the  smelting 
of  metals,  the  weaving  of  cloth  and  the  making 


The  Pyramid  of  Cholula.  243 

of  delicate  pottery.  After  a sojourn  of  twenty 
years  at  Cholula,  Quetzacoatl  decided  to  continue 
his  journey  to  Tlapallan  and  departed  toward 
the  sea,  saying  he  would  return.  Gradually  the 
report  spread  that  he  was  dead;  he  was  then 
proclaimed  a god  by  the  Toltecs  of  Cholula, 
and  was  afterwards  proclaimed  protector  of  the 
city,  in  the  center  of  which  they  reared  the 
pyramid  to  his  honor  and  crowned  the  top  with 
a temple.  In  this  temple  was  an  image  of  the 
“god  of  the  air,’’  wearing  a mitre  on  his  head 
waving  with  plumes  of  fire,  and  around  his  neck 
a resplendent  collar  of  gold,  in  his  ears  pendants 
of  mosaic  turquoise,  in  one  hand  a jeweled 
sceptre,  and  in  the  other  a shield,  curiously 
painted,  the  emblem  of  his  rule  over  the  winds. 
The  sanctity  of  the  place  and  the  magnificence 
of  the  temple  spread,  until  the  worship  of 
Quetzacoatl  was  shared  by  all  the  nations  of 
Anahuac,  and  Cholula  became  a Mecca,  the 
Holy  City  of  the  Valley. 

Quetzacoatl  created  a new  religion  based  on 
fasting,  penitence  and  virtue,  and  he  belonged 
to  another  race  than  the  one  he  civilized,  but 
what  was  his  country?  In  all  the  Aztec  writ- 
ings and  on  all  his  statues  he  is  called  “ the  fair 
god,”  and  when  Cortez  landed  in  Mexico,  Mon- 
tezuma refused  to  make  war  upon  him,  saying, 
“It  is  the  return  of  Quetzacoatl.”  The  Cholu- 
lans  forgot  the  art  of  war  in  the  pursuit  of  the 
arts  of  peace  as  taught  by  Quetzacoatl,  and 
Cholula  became  the  great  emporium  of  the 
plateau.  Cholula  became  a dependency  of  the 
Aztecs,  and  this  gave  olfence  to  the  Tlaxcalans, 
the  bold  Swiss  mountaineers  of  Anahuac,  who 
were  the  enemies  of  the  Aztecs.  So  when 


244  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

Cortez  arrived  and  conquered  the  Tlaxcalans, 
they  were  only  too  willing  to  join  him  against 
the  Cholulans.  It  was  in  1519  that  Cortez  se- 
lected six  thousand  Tlaxcalans  and  a large 
number  of  Cempoallans  and  marched  against 
the  city  of  Cliolula.  Cortez  had  been  invited 
by  the  ruler  to  visit  the  city  and  was  the  guest 
of  the  nobility,  but  here  is  shown  one  of  the 
blackest  spots  in  his  entirely  perfidious  charac- 
ter. Cortez  left  the  main  part  of  his  army  out- 
side the  city  with  instructions  to  rush  in  when 
the  signal  gun  should  be  fired,  and  to  weave 
sedges  around  their  heads  so  as  to  be  distin- 
guished from  the  Cholulans  in  the  slaughter. 
The  next  morning  he  had  his  men  to  conceal 
their  arms  and  assemble  around  the  great  square. 
He  then  sent  word  to  the  princes  and  all  persons 
of  distinction  in  the  city  that  he  desired  a con- 
ference with  them  in  the  square,  and  they  came 
to  do  honor  to  their  invited  guest,  followed  by 
the  thousands,  curious  to  look  upon  the  strange 
horses  and  fair-skinned  strangers.  Then  Cortez, 
to  make  a pretext  for  his  deed,  accused  the 
chiefs  of  plotting  treachery  against  him,  and  at 
the  signal,  his  army  closed  in  the  three  sides  of 
the  square  and  began  the  slaughter  of  the  un- 
armed inhabitants.  All  the  accumulated  hatred 
of  the  Indian  allies  was  let  loose  in  this  hour  of 
vengeance.  All  within  the  square  were  slaugh- 
tered, including  all  the  persons  of  distinction  of 
the  republic,  and  then  the  butchers  with  fire 
and  sword  spread  through  the  streets  of  the 
city,  and  to  the  summit  of  the  pyramid. 

The  statue  of  Quetzacoatl  was  thrown  down 
and  robbed  of  its  treasures.  The  temple  was 
fired,  and  in  the  blaze  of  its  destruction  the 


The  Pyramid  of  Cholula.  245 

savages,  both  Spanish  and  Indians  loaded 
themselves  with  booty  from  the  thrifty  Cholu- 
lans,  and  with  his  sword  in  one  hand  and  the 
crucifix  in  the  other,  the  missionary  bandit, 
Cortez,  offered  the  remaining  inhabitants  a re- 
spite if  they  would  accept  baptism  and  acknowl- 
edge the  King  of  Spain  as  their  sovereign ! 
Under  the  guise  of  friendship,  and  while  accept- 
ing the  hospitality  of  his  host,  this  Christian 
savage  stooped  to  a perfidy  which  the  natives 
scorned. 

This  sacred  city  whose  court  magnificence 
rivaled  the  pomp  of  Montezuma’s  capital  became 
a Golgotha.  Upon  the  top  of  the  pyramid  where 
was  the  temple,  stands  a catholic  church,  and  in 
front  an  ancient  cross  which  the  priest  told  me 
was  almost  as  old  as  the  Conquest.  At  the 
northeast  of  the  the  plaza  where  the  massacre 
occurred  stands  the  Church  of  Seven  Naves, 
which  was  built  by  the  special  order  of  Cortez 
from  models  of  the  Cathedral  Mosque  of  Cordo- 
va in  Spain.  The  chapel  has  sixty-four  sup- 
porting columns,  and  the  small  mullioned  win- 
dows and  Moorish  frescoes  give  it  a repose  of 
perfect  harmony  with  its  peaceful  environments. 
I sat  in  the  plaza  that  had  once  flowed  in  blood. 
It  was  July  18,  and  the  populace  was  celebrat- 
ing the  anniversary  of  the  death  of  the  patriot 
Juarez,  and  as  the  glare  of  fire-works  cast  un- 
natural shadows  among  the  stately  trees,  I was 
reminded  that  Cholula  once  furnished  the  toys 
and  fire-works  for  the  whole  valley.  This  in- 
dustrious people  was  called  in  derision  “the 
race  of  traders;”  and  even  as  I sat,  the  keen- 
eyed boys  detected  the  presence  of  strangers 
and  scented  a trade  in  “antiquias.”  After  throw- 


246 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


ing  a few  stones  at  a tree, they  leisurely  drifted  by 
me,  and  finally  returned,  and  mysteriously  drew 
from  their  pockets  curious  toys  and  fragments 
of  pottery  in  a pattern  different  from  any  now 
made,  and  declared  them  to  he  “antiquias  viejaa 
de  Cholula.”  These  people  are  up  to  date  and 
can  make  you  a relic  to  order  if  they  only  know 
what  you  want,  and  will  date  it  back  as  far  as 
you  wish ; but  these  were  the  simon-pure  article 
of  Cholula  as  she  was  in  her  halcyon  days. 

Near  Cholula  are  smaller  pyramids  very  simi- 
lar to  those  of  the  Mound  Builders  of  the 
Mississippi  Valley.  Stretching  across  the 
fertile  valley  the  shadows  point  to  Popo- 
catapetl,  only  six  leagues  away,  but  the  di- 
aphanous atmosphere  would  make  you  believe 
it  only  one.  The  ancient  capital  is  now 
a compact  village  of  six  thousand  people, 
as  silent  and  bereft  of  enterprise  as  though 
it  dwelt  under  the  spell  of  the  Enchanted 
City  in  the  Arabian  Nights.  The  young  men 
were  discussing  the  independence  of  “Cuba 
Libre;”  the  women  were  at  church,  and  the 
Indian  women  from  the  hills  with  their  babies 
strapped  to  their  backs  and  their  bare  feet 
upon  the  pavement,  glided  more  like  phantoms 
of  a vanished  race  than  realities  of  the  present. 
Though  380  years  have  passed  since  that  awful 
remembrance,  its  every  aspect  seems  to  accent 
its  Bartholomew’s  day.  The  silence  is  oppres- 
sive, so  we  climb  the  pyramid  to  view  the  valley, 
and  such  a view ! To  the  north  six  leagues  is 
Tlaxcala ; to  the  south  and  reaching  the  horizon 
an  endless  valley;  to  the  east,  Puebla  and  the 
gateway  to  the  gulf ; and  to  the  west  the  two 
snow-capped  volcanoes,  and  within  these  boun- 


The  Pyramid  of  Cholula.  247 

daries  a garden  spot  that  equals  the  valley  of 
Mexico. 

Throughout  this  broad  expanse  are  hamlets 
and  orchards  and  pastures  and  fields  of  ever- 
green maguey  and  cochineal,  cactus  and  tropical 
fruits.  The  scene  is  like  a picture  or  the  mi- 
rage of  some  unseen  habitation.  The  animals 
and  men  in  the  distance  creep  like  insects  in  a 
pantomime.  Not  a column  of  smoke  to  denote 
the  presence  of  a factory  nor  the  revolution  of 
a single  wheel  of  commerce.  A blast  of  a tin 
horn  from  the  horse-car  tells  us  this  is  the  last 
car  to  Puebla-  tonight,  and  we  leave  the  beauti- 
ful sunset  glistening  from  the  snow-elad  peak 
of  Popocatapetl,  and  leave  the  unsolved  riddle 
of  the  pyramid  to  the  ages. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


LAS  TIERRAS  CALIENT  AS. 

TO  THE  “Hot  Lands,”  we  leave  Puebla  by 
the  Inter-Oceanic  railroad  and  make  the 
wild  ride  to  the  city  of  Vera  Cruz.  The 
first  part  of  the  journey  is  across  the  mesa  of 
burning  sand  and  bare  rocks.  Soon  after  leav- 
ing the  city  we  pass  the  mount  of  Malinche, 
which  supplies  the  city  with  water.  Malinche 
is  the  name  given  to  Cortez  soon  after  he 
reached  Mexico.  For  miles  and  miles  not  a tree 
graces  the  landscape.  Now  and  then  a brilliant 
cluster  of  morning  glories  appear,  but  they  are 
shrubs  and  not  vines.  The  geranium  also  ap- 
pears, and  no  longer  a shrub,  but  almost  a tree 
twenty  feet  high.  Flocks  of  discouraged  sheep 
and  very  earnest  cattle  seem  to  be  devoting  all 
their  attention  to  eating  sand  and  rocks.  Of 
course  it  is  contrary- to  custom  for  these  animals 
to  make  a steady  diet  off  this  kind  of  fodder, 
but  with  my  most  earnest  investigation  it  was  all 
I saw  for  them  to  eat.  A sparrow  could  be 
seen  anywhere  on  any  given  acre  of  ground. 

A few  shepherds  wrapped  in  serapes  were 
constantly  on  the  watch  to  keep  the  gaunt  and 
restless  wanderers  within  their  imaginary 
boundaries,  for  it  was  contrary  to  custom  to 
allow  one  flock  to  eat  the  sand  that  belongs  to 


Las  Tierras  Calientas. 


249 


another.  The  miserable  huts  of  the  natives  are 
measured  by  the  length  of  the  discarded  cross- 
ties of  the  railroad.  A quadrangle  of  these 
stuck  a foot  in  the  ground  and  thatched  with 
maguey  leaves  and  the  citizen  is  “at  home.” 
So  is  the  donkey  or  whatever  other  animal  he 
possesses.  Sometimes  he  has  several  razor- 
back  pigs  tethered  by  a foot  to  the  end  of  a 
rope  and  they  root  in  the  ground  and  hone  their 
backs  against  the  cross-tie  that  answers  for  a 
door-post  and  are  happy.  As  the  train  approaches 
a station,  scores  of  women  and  girls  press 
around  the  car  windows  beseeching  the  passen- 
gers to  buy  fruits  at  the  first  class  cars,  and 
cooked  provisions  at  the  second  and  third.  The 
most  of  the  first  class  passengers  are  Americans, 
and  as  a rule  they  do  not  invest  heavily  in  Mexi- 
can provisions.  They  say  it  requires  too  much 
faith  to  eat  them. 

And  pulque.  How  could  we  get  along  without 
the  fragrant  pulque  ? With  a large  earthen  jar 
in  her  left  hand,  and  a small  one  without  handle 
in  her  right,  she  anxiously  seeks  purchasers. 
W hen  a purchaser  is  found,  down  goes  that  right 
hand,  fingers  and  all  to  the  bottom  of  the  jar,  and 
as  it  comes  up  full,  the  white,  ropy  fluid  frescoes 
with  its  sticky  streamers  everything  in  reach. 
In  their  anxiety  to  out-sell  each  other,  the 
anxious  eyes  are  scanning  every  window  for 
engagements  while  the  right  hand  mechanically 
is  immersed  to  the  wrist  in  the  larger  vessel. 
At  one  cent  a drink,  and  often  as  many  vendors 
as  purchasers,  two  or  three  cents  is  the  average 
revenue  these  people  make  from  a train  that 
passes  only  twice  a day.  It  is  sad  to  see  the 
hungry  pleading  eyes  of  these  half-naked  women 


250  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

as  they  in  vain  offer  their  scanty  wares  to  people 
who  do  not  buy.  I have  bought  food  from  one 
of  these  beggars  and  given  it  to  another  just  to 
see  them  eat,  and  no  starved  beast  could  have 
shown  greater  hunger  and  zeal  with  which  they 
picked  up  every  crumb  from  the  ground. 

In  the  cities  beggars  are  kept  scarce  by  the 
police,  but  on  these  plateaux  they  swarm,  and 
grown  men  and  women  will  crowd  around  the 
train,  and  their  clothing  would  not  average  two 
yards  to  the  person.  Only  twice  did  I see  beg- 
gars attempting  to  offer  an  equivalent  for  the 
alms  they  begged — at  La  Barca  on  the  Mexi- 
can Central  Road  where  two  blind  beggars  with 
cracked  voices  and  rheumatic  guitars  inflicted 
the  painful  combination  upon  the  unoffending 
passengers.  I think  the  grimaces  were  given 
without  charge,  and  only  the  music  was  expected 
to  be  paid  for,  but  I am  sure  my  coppers  were 
given  for  the  heroic  efforts  of  that  face  to  reach 
the  sublimity  of  the  music.  The  face  was  al- 
ways about  three  and  a half  flat  keys  below  the 
instrument,  and  the  much  abused  instrument 
made  no  attempt  to  catch  up  with  that  wonder- 
ful voice,  but  plodded  along  with  her  “reglar 
steady  ” for  all  pieces.  Those  three  organiza- 
tions covered  the  whole  baseball  diamofld  in 
their  progress,  but  they  all  got  together  at  the 
home  base,  and  while  the  worthy  Mrs.  Beggar 
collected  the  pennies,  the  crowd  cheered  the 
first  warbler  and  called  for  the  second.  Each 
one  had  the  pitch  that  belonged  to  the  other 
fellow’s  songs,  but  the  crowd  got  it  all  anyway 
so  what  was  the  difference  ? Anyway  they 
were  the  only  beggars  that  offered  a quid  pro 
quo  and  the  crowd  forgave  them  much,  even  as 


Las  Tierras  Calientas. 


251 


they  had  sinned  much  against  the  musical  pro- 
fession in  traveling  on  the  high  C’s  without 
any  chart. 

Out  of  pure  charity  I took  one  of  the  Mrs. 
Beggar  aside  and  very  softly  asked  her  if  she 
did  not  think  an  ordinary  three-cornered  file 
would  help  her  husband’s  voice  and  also 
his  throat.  The  word  “throat”  was  my  Water- 
loo. Lifting  her  coal  black  eyes  to  mine  she’ 
looked  the  thanks  she  uttered  as  she  said: 
“Lord,  senor,  a thousand  thanks,  that  is  the 
very  thing,  he  has  not  had  a square  meal  today.” 
When  will  people  learn  that  everything  intended 
for  the  throat  is  not  to  be  eaten?  Such  gross 
ignorance  discourages  my  good  Samaritan  im- 
pulse and  seriously  interferes  with  my  work  as 
a reformer.  The  same  thing  happened  at  a 
restaurant  where  the  same  dish  of  butter  had 
kept  guard  on  the  table  so  long  that  it  was 
being  consumed  by  its  own  inactivity,  and  was 
making  itself  felt  further  and  further  from  its 
base  of  operations.  Out  of  pure  charity  for  my 
fellow  boarders,  I heroically  made  a nurtyr  of 
myself  and  relieved  the  old  guard  which  “ died 
but  never  surrendered,”  so  the  other  fellows 
might  have  a fresh  dish,  and  what  was  the 
result?  Bismillah!  that  eagle-eyed  waiter 
reported  that  I just  actually  made  my  living  off 
that  brand  of  butter,  and  next  meal  the  old 
guard  had  been  replaced  by  a w^hole  pound  of 
the  same  vintage  but  more  vigorous  and  loud. 
Such  ignorance  leads  people  to  misinterpret  my 
noble  motives.  Now,  here  I was  trying  to  make 
good  music  for  coming  generations,  by  offering 
that  old  lady  a file  to  rasp  down  the  nightin- 
gale’s fog  horn,  and  she  thinks  X am  so  entranced 


252 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


with  the  unearthly  music  that  I want  to  show 
my  appreciation  by  giving  them  a cubic  meal. 
Alas  this  thankless  world!  It  was  ever  thus. 

I said  they  were  the  only  beggars  that  paid 
for  their  alms,  but  I make  one  exception.  Be- 
tween Guadalajara  and  San  Pedro  a beggar  has 
a gold  mine.  Not  what  you  would  call  a gold 
mine,  but  it  is  one  for  him.  He  has  a fortune 
in  his  knees,  which  got  on  the  wrong  side  of  his 
legs,  and  as  the  street-car  stops  to  change  mules 
he  painfully  hobbles  on  crutches  to  the  car, 
makes  his  exhibit,  collects  the  coppers  and  hob- 
bles back  to  his  seat  to  wait  for  the  next  car, 
and  he  never  utters  a word.  He  has  what 
ordinary  people  call  ‘ ‘ a sure  thing.  ” He  always 
made  me  think  of  the  tramp  and  the  dog.  The 
dog  found  the  tramp  in  the  hay-mow  and 
growled.  The  tramp  said:  “ Good  doggie,  good 
doggie,”  and  the  dog  wagged  his  tail  but  kept 
growling.  The  tramp  said:  “It  may  be  all 
right,  but  I don’t  know  which  end  to  believe.” 
So  every  time  my  beggar  friend  turned  his  face 
away  from  the  car,  his  knees  and  feet  seemed  to 
try  to  come  back,  and  I did  not  know  which  end 
to  believe.  This  beggar  question  is  too  large 
and  has  made  me  wander  away  from  my  subject. 
I was  talking  about  the  women  sousing  their 
dirty  hands  into  the  pulque,  but  small  matters 
like  that  do  not  count.  The  old  saw  is  still  in 
vogue,  that  we  must  all  eat  our  peck  of  dirt  be- 
fore we  die,  and  so  we  in  Mexico  just  eat  our 
peck  and  get  the  dreaded  duty  from  our  minds. 

There  are  many  more  miles  of  desert  and  pas- 
tures where  the  cattle  still  feed  upon  sand,  and 
then  we  come  to  the  fortress  of  San  Juan  de  Los 
Llanos.  In  the  midst  of  the  desert  where  it 


Las  Tierras  Calientas. 


253 


never  rains,  and  where  there  is  no  green  thing 
in  sight,  lies  this  huge  fortress  of  St.  John  of 
the  Plains.  For  four  hundred  years  this  has 
been  the  King's  highway  from  the  gulf  to  the 
capital,  and  all  the  treasures  of  gold  and  silver 
to  Europe,  and  of  merchandise  from  Europe 
have  had  to  pass  along  here  in  caravans  of  pack- 
animals  and  armed  escorts.  This  road  was  a 
veritable  Captain  Kidd’s  treasure-house  to  the 
hundreds  of  bandits  that  have  swarmed  through 
this  country,  so  it  is  no  more  of  a policy  than 
necessity  that  the  soldiers  are  here. 

We  are  now  nearing  the  rim  of  the  plateau 
and  pass  through  miles  of  rich  mining  country 
until  we  leave  the  state  of  Puebla  and  enter  the 
state  of  Vera  Cruz.  We  are  a hundred  miles 
from  the  sea  and  eight  thousand  feet  above  it 
on  the  backbone  of  the  Cordilleras.  Around  us 
is  white  frost,  and  in  four  hours  we  shall  be  in 
perpetual  summer.  We  are  above  the  clouds 
and  everything  is  invisible.  The  clouds  envelop 
the  train  like  a pall,  and  we  are  conscious  of  only 
one  thing;  we  are  plunging  down  the  mountain 
with  breaks  down,  and  with  the  descent  of  one 
hundred  and  thirty-three  feet  to  the  mile.  A 
rift  in  the  clouds  discloses  a semi-tropical  forest, 
and  upon  every  tree  are  myriads  of  beautiful 
orchids  of  blue,  red,  scarlet,  orange — every  color 
and  in  the  greatest  profusion.  A thousand  feet 
below  is  a little  town  we  are  trying  to  reach. 
The  train  approaches  it  first  on  this  side  and 
then  on  that,  and  winds  down  the  mountain  in 
a kind  of  spiral,  and  at  last  stops  sit  the  station. 
Above  us  is  the  track  we  have  just  left,  and  if  a 
rock  was  loosed  from  it,  it  would  fall  upon  the 
roof  of  the  train  at  the  station.  There  is  one 


254  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

place  on  the  road  where  a stone  dropped  from  a 
car  window  would  hit  the  track  at  two  separate 
levels.  It  is  a journey  one  never  wants  to  take 
twice  by  daylight.  If  you  pass  the  dangers  at 
night  you  save  the  nervous  speculation  as  to 
what  would  happen  if  a wheel  should  break  on 
the  brink  of  a chasm  a thousand  feet  deep,  and 
a floating  cloud  conceals  the  nature  of  the  rocks 
you  would  land  upon  in  the  awful  depths  belowr. 

Every  few  hundred  yards  by  the  track  are 
wooden  crosses  and  stone  cairns.  I ask  my 
neighbor:  “ Porqve  las  crucesV ’ lie  devotedly 
crosses  himself  and  mentions  them  as  unfortu- 
nate meeting  places  of  travelers  and  bandits, 
and  after  the  meeting  the  traveler  still  re- 
mained. Every  one  who  passes  considers  it  his 
duty  to  add  a stone  to  the  cairn. 

At  the  stations  the  half-clad  natives,  shiver- 
ing in  the  chill  mountain  air,  offer  food  and 
beautiful  flowers  for  sale.  Orange  blossoms 
from  the  valley  and  a dozen  other  rare  blossoms 
the  foreigner  has  never  seen,  and  the  beautiful 
orchids  with  the  roots  done  up  in  leaves  are 
offered  for  a real,  (12|-  cents)  wrhich  would  cost 
five  or  six  dollars  at  an  American  florist’s. 

Down,  down  we  go,  through  dark  canons  and 
over  spider  bridges  and  below  the  clouds.  Now 
our  wraps  are  uncomfortably  wTarm  and  we  lay 
them  aside  and  open  the  windows.  From  every 
where  comes  the  odors  of  rare  tropical  flow’ers 
and  the  iridescent  rays  of  beautiful  butterflies, 
and  we  are  half  down  the  mountain  at  Jalapa 
(Halapa).  Jalapa  is  a city  of  fifteen  thousand 
population,  and  wTas  once  the  capital  of  Vera 
Cruz  and  has  much  to  endear  it  to  the  tourist. 
As  the  train  stops  you  enter  a street-car  drawn 


Las  Tierras  Calientas. 


255 


by  six  mules  which  will  carry  you  to  town  on  the 
hillside  of  Meniltepec.  When  you  wish  to  come 
back  to  the  train,  the  brakes  are  set  and  the  car 
will  bring  you  back  itself,  and  the  mules  will  be 
down  after  a while  to  draw  it  back.  It  is  a 
regular  toboggan  affair,  and  you  feel  as  if  you 
were  shooting  the  chutes,  were  it  not  for  the 
heavy  bumpers  that  "would  stop  you  were  the 
brakes  to  give  way.  I think  the  Mexican  style 
of  carrying  the  babies  slung  over  the  back 
must  have  originated  in  Jalapa.  If  a nurse 
should  undertake  to  roll  a baby  carriage,  and 
while  talking  to  a policeman  should  let  the 
buggy  get  a start  down  any  street,  it  would 
shoot  the  chute  for  Yera  Cruz  on  an  incline  of 
thirty  degrees. 

Before  the  Inter-Oceanic  Bail  Boad  was  com- 
pleted the  street-cars  ran  to  Yera  Cruz,  seventy 
miles  away,  and  all  the  company  had  to  do  was 
to  mass  their  mules  in  Yera  Cruz  and  their  cars 
in  Jalapa  and  start  the  cars  on  schedule  time 
with  enough  brakemen  to  prevent  a hot  box. 
The  streets  are  not  quite  as  crooked  as  a cork- 
screw, and  not  quite  as  straight  as  a cow-trail 
when  she  is  grazing,  and  starting  from  the  top, 
each  first  floor  window  looks  out  upon  its  neigh- 
bor’s house-top.  It  rains  here  about  eight  days 
in  the  week.  The  town  is  four  thousand  feet 
above  sea  level,,  and  just  behind  it  is  the  Copre 
de  Perote  peak,  thirteen  thousand  four  hundred 
and  three  feet  high,  and  plenty  high  to  catch 
the  rain  clouds  from  the  gulf.  When  they 
strike  the  jagged  edge  of  this  toboggan  slide 
which  holds  Jalapa,  they  simply  disgorge  and 
go  back  for  another  load.  They  seem  to  be  a 
very  faithful,  conscientious  set  of  clouds  that 


256  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

put  in  a good  dray’s  work  and  never  grumble 
about  working  over-time  or  the  agitation  of  an 
eight  hour  system.  I got  tired  carrying  my 
umbrella.  It  would  rain  half  an  hour  and  sun- 
shine half  an  hour  till  the  next  cloud  got  snag- 
ged on  that  mountain,  and  so  between  them 
there  was  no  rest  for  my  umbrella.  I am  always 
full  of  good  motives  and  advice,  and  the  same 
work  a lawyer  wants  ten  dollars  for,  I distribute 
with  a lavish  ha — mouth.  Armed  with  my  good 
intentions  and  my  dripping  umbrella,  I called 
upon  a member  of  the  city  council  and  sug- 
gested the  idea  of  filing  off  the  rough  edges  of 
the  mountain  so  it  would  not  snag  the  clouds 
and  drench  the  people  so  often,  but  my  words 
and  good  intentions  were  all  wasted.  Those 
citizens  have  been  sliding  down  hill  so  long  and 
been  drawn  up  again  by  mules,  they  have  no 
energy  whatever,  and  would  never  climb  that 
mountain  till  they  got  street-cars  up  there.  And 
besides,  if  the  cloud  system  wTas  altered  they 
would  have  to  establish  a different  sewer-system, 
and  that  means  wrork,  and  of  course  they  would 
not. 

These  clouds  have  done  one  thing  though, 
they  have  banished  the  thatch  roof,  and  every 
house  is  built  of  stone  and  roofed  with  half- 
cylindrical  brick  tiles  which  project  a full  yard 
over  the  eaves.  This  constant  drizzle  has  killed 
the  usefulness  of  the  old  and  tried  friend — the 
almanac.  You  don’t  have  to  ask  when  it  will 
rain  for  you  know  it  will  rain  in  half  an  hour. 
Then  it  is  no  pleasure  looking  in  the  almanac 
to  see  when  the  first  frost  wfill  fall  so  we  can 
gather  chestnuts  or  pecans,  because  frost  never 
comes,  and  fall  never  comes,  and  winter  never 


Las  Tierras  Calientas. 


257 


comes,  but  it  just  stays  one  eternal  spring.  The 
trees  are  always  green  and  if  a leaf  falls  another 
grows  in  its  place,  and  if  you  pluck  an  orange 
another  blossom  springs  out  immediately,  and  if 
you  cut  a bunch  of  bananas,  a new  shoot  starts 
up  for  another  stem,  and  as  fast  as  you  pick  the 
coffee  berry,  a perfect  shower  of  snow  white 
blossoms  appear. 

There  is  absolutely  no  season.  Four  crops 
of  corn  can  be  grown, allowing  ninety  days  to  each 
crop.  Sugar  and  coffee  and  tobacco  are  the  main 
crops.  The  state  of  Vera  Cruz  borders  the  gulf 
for  five  hundred  miles  with  an  average  width  of 
seventy-five,  and  in  all  that  territory,  the  soil 
does  nothing  but  push  things  out.  The  Indian 
takes  a sharp  stick  and  makes  a hole  in  the 
ground  and  drops  a grain  of  corn,  covering  it 
with  his  foot,  and  ninety  days  afterwards  he 
gathers  his  crop,  and  that  is  absolutely  all 
he  does  in  the  way  of  labor.  A banana 
stem  will  spring  up  eight  or  ten  inches  in  diam- 
eter with  several  bunches  of  bananas  and  eighty 
to  the  bunch.  He  gathers  them  and  knocks  the 
stalk  down  and  presto  ! another  springs  from 
the  roots,  and  this  he  does  perpetually. 

The  coffee  plant  is  the  most  beautiful  plant 
in  this  region,  and  bears  till  the  slender  branches 
touch  the  ground.  The  fruit  is  like  our  cher- 
ries or  plums,  and  the  natives  eat  it  as  we  do 
cherries,  and  only  the  seed  is  sold  for  drinking. 
All  around  Jalapa  in  the  forest  grows  the  va- 
nilla vine  so  dear  to  the  cake  and  ice-cream 
fraternity.  The  vine  grows  all  over  the  forest 
like  grape  vines,  and  is  not  cultivated.  The 
flowers  are  greenish  yellow  with  spots  of  white, 
and  the  pods  grow  in  pairs  like  snap-beans,  six 


258  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

inches  long  and  as  large  as  your  finger.  They 
are  first  green  and  then  yellow,  and  when  fully 
ripe  are  brown.  The  pods  are  dried  in  the  sun 
and  then  touched  up  with  palm  oil  to  make  them 
shine.  The  Indians  make  a good  living  by 
gathering  the  pods  and  selling  them  in  Jalapa, 
which  is  the  chief  market  for  vanilla.  They 
also  gather  from  these  woods  sarsaparilla,  which 
has  its  home  here.  All  druggists  keep  on  their 
shelves  a drug  called  Jalap,  which  grows  here 
and  gets  its  name  from  the  old  town  of  Jalapa. 
With  pine-apples  and  plantains  and  limes  and 
apricots  and  pomegranates  and  bread  fruit  and 
sugar  and  coffee  and  tobacco  all  growing  at 
their  doors,  -what  wonder  is  it  that  the  people 
all  say,  “Jalapa  is  a bit  of  heaven  dropped 
down  to  earth.”  All  they  need  is  a tree  to 
grow  hammocks  ready-made  and  swinging,  and 
the  millennium  has  come.  It  is  situated  near 
the  foot  of  the  volcano  of  Orizaba,  the  second 
highest  mountain  in  America  outside  of  Alaska, 
and  the  rich  hills  and  valleys  are  covered  with 
vast  heaps  of  volcanic  tufa  and  ashes  which  are 
natural  fertilizers. 

The  American  army  on  its  march  from  Vera 
Cruz  stopped  here  to  shoot  the  chutes — and  the 
natives — and  exchange  hospitality  with  them. 
The  natives  have  a very  vivid  recollection  of 
that  visit,  and  on  the  principal  street  stands  a 
tall  granite  monument  with  this  inscription: 

“SACRED  TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  NATION’S  HEROES 

WHO  DIED  IN  DEFENSE  OF  THEIR  COUNTRY 

AGAINST  THE  AMERICAN  INVASION  IN  1S47.” 

The  thing  is  so  absolutely  true  and  incisive 
that  most  Americans  who  read  it  like  to  quietly 
slip  off  to  another  street  where  there  is  no  grim 


Las  Tierras  Calient  as. 


250 


accuser.  Every  time  he  looks  dispassionately 
back  at  that  war  he  feels  like  the  big  bully  who 
slugged  the  little  boy  in  the  street  just  because 
the  hoy  had  spunk  enough  to  light  hack,  and 
then  took  all  his  apples.  California,  Nevada, 
New  Mexico  and  Arizona  must  always  feel  like 
blood  money  to  the  American  people,  as  they 
were  taken  from  Mexico  to  extend  slave  terri- 
tory. 

Santa  Anna  was  born  in  this  town,'  and  the 
reckless  traveling  up  and  down  these  toboggan 
streets  must  have  given  him  his  dare-devil  spirit 
which  marked  every  stage  of  his  eventful  life. 

Jalapa  is  the  summer  resort  of  the  moneyed 
people  of  Vera  Cruz.  Every  May  wdien  the 
Yellow  Fever  awakes  from  his  sleep  in  Vera 
Cruz,  the  brave  citizens  in  a body  back  up 
the  hill  to  Jalapa  and  shake  their  fists  at  him 
and  dare  him  to  cross  the  line,  and  the  fever 
does  not  dare.  They  wTould  simply  pull  a plug 
out  of  one  of  their  special  clouds  and  Hood  him 
back  to  the  sea.  There  must  have  always  been 
a city  here:  behind  the  present  city  are  stone 
pyramids  fifty  feet  high,  and  countless  founda- 
tions of  stone  walls  laid  in  cement.  There  are 
oak  trees  four  feet  in  diameter  growing  through 
pavements  laid  in  hewn  stone  and  cement.  The 
architecture  is  different  from  that  of  the  Aztec, 
and  there  is  neither  language  nor  tradition  as 
to  who  built  these  ancient  ruins.  They  lie  to- 
wards the  coast  between  Jalapa  and  Orizaba. 

Tell  it  not  in  Gath,  but  they  do  say  that  the 
most  beautiful  women  in  Mexico  live  in  Jalapa. 
“Bewitching,  alluring  are  the  women  of 
Jalapa,”  is  what  the  natives  mean  when  they 
say:  “ Las  Jalapenas  son  halaguenas .”  Per- 


260 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


haps  this  accounts  for  the  saying  that  Jalapa  is 
a part  of  paradise  let  down  to  earth.  The  pre- 
vail ng  type  of  beauty  here  is  the  blonde  with 
blue  eyes  and  brown  hair,  while  elsewhere  it  is 
the  brunette  with  black  eyes  and  hair.  After 
one  has  seen  las  Jalapenas  halaguenas}  the  old 
churches  and  the  musty  paintings  lose  their  in- 
terest. The  old  town  shows  its  age  probably 
more  than  any  other  in  Mexico,  and  if  these 
old  stones  could  speak  they  might  tell  us  of 
the  building  of  Cholula.  Whatever  is  old  in 
Mexico  is  still  older  in  Jalapa.  Excursions  to 
Coatepec  and  Jelotepec,  about  six  miles  away, 
may  be  made  on  horse-cars  through  tropical 
forests  and  colfee  groves,  and  then  we  continue 
our  tobogganing  to  Vera  Cruz.  On.  the  dow'n 
slide  wre  pass  Cerro  Gordo,  where  General  Scott 
defeated  Santa  Anna,  April  18,  1847.  He  must 
have  defeated  the  town  too,  for  it  is  not 
there.  A few  mud  huts  are  patriotic  enough  to 
remain  and  continue  the  name,  for  which  they 
deserve  much  credit.  Perhaps  they  are  guard- 
ing the  place  to  preserve  Santa  Anna’s  wooden 
leg  which  was  lost  here  in  battle.  They 
have  not  yet  learned  that  it  is  in  Washington 
City. 

W e finally  stow  awTay  our  thermometer  to  pre- 
vent its  melting  and  running  aw'ay.  They  say 
that  straight  dowrn  in  the  ground  underneath 
Vera  Cruz  to  an  indefinite  depth  it  is  realty  hotter 
than  Vera  Cruz.  Perhaps.  Vera  Cruz  is  a good 
place  to  stay  awTay  iroin.  From  May  to  October 
it  is  the  summer  residence  of  his  majesty  El 
Vomito  Negro , a black  vomit,  familiarly  known 
as  Yellow  Fever.  This  is  not  only  his  summer 
residence,  but  his  permanent  home,  but  during 


Las  Tierras  Calientas. 


261 


the  winter  months  he  is  “not  at  home;”  but 
May  1st.,  on  house-cleauing  day,  his  residence 
is  open  to  all  comers,  be  they  light-weight, 
middle-class  or  sluggers.  He  gives  all  odds  and 
guarantees  a knockout  in  the  first  round  or 
forfeit  the  championship. 

During  1863-4  the  French  army  planted  four 
thousand  soldiers  in  a little  cemetery  which 
they  facetiously  called  “ Le  Jar' din  d ’ Acclima- 
tion.” The  Mexicans  call  it  “La  Cindad  delos 
Muertos ,”  the  City  of  the  Dead.  The  population 
of  Yera  Cruz  in  1869  was  13,492  and  the  number 
of  deaths- for  the  ten  years  ending  in  1879  was 
12,219.  The  average  duration  of  life  by  these 
figures  was  eleven  years ! The  annual  death- 
rate  is  ninety  per  thousand  population,  while  in 
the  United  States  it  is  22.28  per  thousand.  The 
safest  way  to  see  the  city  in  the  summer  is  to 
go  in  on  the  train,  go  out  to  the  old  castle  of 
San  Juan  d’  Ulloa  about  a mile  out  in  the  har- 
bor, climb  to  the  light  house  and  take  a good 
look,  then  get  on  the  same  train  and  get  up  and 
out,  or  rather  out  and  up.  The  town  covers 
about  sixty  acres  and  has  no  suburbs  but  sand 
and  water.  An  avenue  of  palms  on  the  main 
street  is  the  principal  feature.  If  you  stay  till 
night  you  will  see  the  raven  hair  o*f  the  Mexi- 
can ladies  sparkling  with  gems,  but  they  are 
only  fireflies  or  “ lighting  bugs.”  Three  or  four 
of  these  tropical  fireflies  placed  under  a tumbler 
will  give  light  enough  to  read  by.  They  have 
a natural  hook  on  their  bodies,  so  they  are  fast- 
ened in  the  hair  by  this  hook  without  pain  to 
themselves.  Our  American  cities  are  troubled 
about  their  street-cleaning  department;  but 
Yera  Cruz  has  a street-cleaning  commission 


2G2  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

that  is  a commission.  Here  they  work  without 
salary  and  only  ask  bed  and  board.  The  only 
other  bonus  they  ask  is  that  the  city  fine  any 
person  five  dollars  for  killing  any  member  of  the 
commission ; which  seemed  only  reasonable,  so 
the  city  glauly  consented,  and  now  the  agreement 
is  entirely  satisfactory  to  employer  and  em- 
ployee. 

The  city  council,  on  the  city  records,  calls 
these  commissioners  Zopilotes,  but  ordinary 
people  just  call  them  turkey-buzzards.  Their 
contract  calls  for  bed  and  board — or  tree.  They 
find  their  board  in  the  garbage  piles  and  refuse 
heaps  of  the  stre  ts,  and  their  bed  on  the  church 
steeples  and  on  the  city  hall  and  on  your  gate 
post  or  any  other  soft  place  where  it  is  comfor- 
table to  rest  after  a hard  day’s  work.  The  city 
has  not  yet  appointed  a commision  to  clean  up 
behind  the  commissioners,  and  if  I should  sug- 
gest the  thing  to  them  they  would  misunderstand 
my  ideas  of  reform,  so  I will  leave  them  to  their 
fate  and  the  heavy  death  roll  which  they  will 
still  charge  to  LI  Vomito  and  exonerate  the 
Zopilotes.  Owing  to  an  oversight  in  drawing 
up  the  contract,  no  mention  was  made  of  nest- 
ing-places for  the  commissioners,  and  so  they 
had  to  make  other  arrangements  elsewhere,  but 
where  it  is  the  deponent  sayeth  not. 

Their  day’s  work  was  done  and  we  saw  that 
all  the  resorters  had  resorted  to  their  resorts, 
so  we  resorted  to  the  train,  unpacked  our 
thermometer  and  hied  us  away.  Yera  Cruz  has 
had  a monopoly  of  the  shipping  business,  but 
has  a rival  now  in  Tampico.  When  you  go  to 
Tampico,  you  must  tar  and  grease  your  hands, 
face  and  neck,  then  wear  a pair  of  leather  gloves 


Las  Tierras  Calientas. 


263 


and  muzzle  your  face  with  wire  netting.  You 
may  keep  the  insects  off  hut  you  will  smell  like 
a barrel  of  train  oil.  The  entomologists  must 
have  got  tired  classifying  insects  and  dumped 
all  the  remnants  at  Tampico.  One  sociable 
little  fellow  has  a habit  of  crawling  under  your 
toe-nail  wdiile  you  sleep  and  digging  a hole  till 
he  is  out  of  sight  and  then  going  to  sleep.  He 
has  no  special  reason  for  this  except  to  make 
you  cut  off  your  toe  to  get  him  out  or  to  make 
you  sleep  in  your  boots.  The  monkeys  and 
parrots  are  very  sociable  too,  but  familiarity 
breeds  contempt.  If  I must  associate  with 
monkeys  I prefer  those  with  two  legs  so  when  I 
abuse  them  they  can  understand  my  wrath. 

For  description  of  Tampico  see  Encyclopedia 
Britannica.  Besides  the  Inter-Oceanic,  there  is 
another  railroad  entering  Vera  Cruz,  the  British 
road  that  was  thirty-five  years  in  building  and 
cost  forty  million  dollars.  This  road  leaves  the 
plateau  at  Boca  del  Monte  (mouth  of  the  moun- 
tain) eight  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  and 
falls  four  thousand  feet  in  passing  over  the  first 
twenty-five  miles  of  circuitous  track,  and  it 
falls  twenty-five  hundred  perpendicular  feet  in 
the  first  twelve  miles,  or  two  hundred  and  eighty 
feet  to  the  mile.  That  tired,  sinking  feeling  is 
very,  very  present  when  you  start  down.  A 
double  engine  called  the  “Farlie,”  having  two 
sets  of  driving  machinery  and  the  boiler  in  the 
center,  pulls  this  train,  and  when  it  starts  up 
hill  it  has  to  stop  every  ten  miles  to  rest.  The 
Britishers  who  built  that  road  had  faith  and 
plenty  of  it.  Below  Orizaba,  the  road  crosses  a 
gorge  a thousand  feet  deep,  and  was  blasted 
from  the  solid  rock.  To  do  so,  workmen  were 


264  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

suspended  by  ropes  over  the  cliff,  and  worked 
for  hours  with  hammer  and  chisel.  One  piece 
of  track  clinging  to  the  wall  is  not  over  ten 
rods  long  and  required  seven  years  to  build. 
So  costly  was  this  road  that  when  it  was  first 
opened  in  1873  first  class  freight  rates  from 
Vera  Cruz  to  the  City  of  Mexico,  two  hundred 
and  sixty-three  miles  away,  were  $76  a ton  on 
freight  trains  and  $97.77  on  passenger  trains. 

Since  Tampico  is  now  a rival  port  freight  is 
only  $45  a ton  and  still  the  road  hardly  pays  for 
its  outlay.  We  soon  enter  the  beautiful  valley 
of  La  Joya  (the  Gem)  and  down,  down  below 
the  clouds  we  pass  through  evergreen  foliage  of 
ferns  and  flowers  that  surpass  anything  in 
beauty  ever  attempted  by  brush  and  canvas ; 
mammoth  ferns  and  tangled  vanilla  vines  and 
other  parasitic  vines  that  coil  around  the  giant 
trees  and  strangle  them  to  death,  and  then  feed 
upon  the  remains.  Tropical  birds  of  all  colors 
and  migratory  birds  from  other  lands  are  here 
without  number.  It  is  here  the  Indian  hunter 
pursues  his  vocation  of  killing  to  make  the  won- 
derful featherwork,  so  salable  in  the  capital, 
and  just  here  we  enter  the  beautiful  city  of 
Orizaba,  the  capital  of  Vera  Cruz. 

Behind  the  city  is  the  snow-capped  volcano  of 
Orizaba,  eighteen  thousand  three  hundred  and 
fourteen  feet  above  the  sea,  three  miles  and  a 
half  high.  Violent  eruptions  took  place  here 
in  1545-6  but  it  has  been  on  a strike  ever  since. 
Being  the  second  highest  mountain  in  North 
America,  perhaps  it  is  putting  on  airs.  At  any 
rate  it  is  chilly  enough  now  and  the  melting 
snows  form  innumerable  cascades  and  waterfalls; 
and  so  the  Chicmec  Indians  called  the  volcano 


Las  Tierras  Calientas. 


265 


“ Ahauializapan”  or  “Joy  in  the  waters,”  but 
the  Spaniards  had  neglected  their  pronunciation 
in  their  early  youth  and  this  was  their  Shibbo- 
leth, so  they  called  it  Orizaba  and  let  it  go  at 
that.  Earthquakes  have  always  been  a spec- 
ialty with  Orizaba,  and  the  largest  church  has 
had  its  steeples  thrown  down  three  times,  and 
many  others  have  a rakish,  corkscrew  perpen- 
dicular, which  gives  the  impression  that  they 
have  been  on  a jag  or  are  trying  to  imitate  the 
leaning  tower  of  Pisa.  A river  runs  through 
the  town,  and  runs  cotton  and  sugar  and  flour 
mills.  Orizaba  is  exactly  of  the  same  altitude 
as  Jalapa  and  what  was  said  of  the  richness 
and  fertility  of  that  burg  is  true  of  Orizaba. 
Volcanic  ash  is  the  fertilizer  which  needs  only 
moisture,  which  is  abundant.  The  streets  are 
paved  with  lava,  and  there  are  three  schools  for 
girls  and  two  for  boys.  If  you  like  mountain 
climbing,  plenty  of  blankets,  two  days’  provi- 
sions— and  some  silver — will  take  you  to  the 
crater  of  Orizaba,  if  your  lungs  can  stand  the 
rarified  air. 

I also  ascended  Orizaba,  and  my  proxy  said  he 
could  almost  see  into  the  land  of  the  almighty 
dollar,  the  vision  was  so  grand.  I felt  happy. 
Delightful  excursions  through  the  pretty  gar- 
dens to  Yngenio,  the  lakes  and  mills  of  Nogales, 
to  the  innumerable  cascades  of  Rincon  Grande, 
Tuxpango,  El  Bario  Nuevo  and  Santa  Ana.  On 
the  way  to  these,  the  orchids  and  other  floral 
beauties  just  beg  of  you  to  pluck  them  and  thus 
make  room  for  their  companions.  Down  the 
mountain  we  glide  with  brakes  set  and  enter 
the  steel  laces  of  the  spider  bridge  across  the 
Metlac  and  hold  our  breath  to  lighten  our 


266  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

weight  to  the  other  side.  We  feel  much  better 
after  we  are  over,  and  just  beyond  in  the  tropic- 
al vale  of  Seco  is  Cordova,  on  the  border  of  the 
tier r a caliente  and  tierra  templada.  We  are  in 
the  same  belt  as  Jalapa  and  Orizaba,  therefore 
in  the  heart  of  the  coffee  plantations.  The 
principal  food  of  the  lower-class  is  bananas. 
The  banana  is  an  annual  that  grows  about  ten 
feet  high  and  about  a foot  in  diameter  before 
the  bud  appears,  and  then  from  the  top  springs 
a purple  bud  eight  or  nine  inches  long,  shaped 
like  a large  acorn.  This  cone  hangs  from  a long 
stem  upon  which  a leaf  unfolds,  displaying  a 
large  cluster  of  young  fruit.  As  soon  as  these 
have  set,  the  leaf  drops  off  and  another  unfolds, 
exposing  another  young  brood  of  buds.  When 
these  set,  the  process  is  repeated  until  there  are 
nine  or  ten  circles  of  young  bananas,  and  when 
complete  the  bunch  has  nearly  a hundred  ba- 
nanas, and  the  stalk  never  has  to  be  replanted. 
It  requires  less  attention  and  produces  more 
than  any  plant  known. 

If  the  coffee  plant  was  allowed  to  grow  with 
its  own  sweet  will,  it  would  become  a tree  thirty 
feet  high,  but  then  the  berry  would  be  hard  to 
gather,  so  it  is  topped  and  pruned  so  as  to 
spread  laterally.  The  leaf  is  a shining  ever- 
green, the  flower  is  a snowy  white  star  with  the 
odor  of  jassamines,  and  the  fruit  is  a bright  red, 
turning  to  purple  when  ripe.  The  fruit  looks 
much  like  a cherry  and  tastes  as  well,  but  this  is 
not  for  what  it  is  cultivated.  Within  the  berry 
are  two  kernels  or  seeds  with  their  flat  sides 
adjoining,  and  enclosed  in  a thin  pericarp.  The 
fruit  is  spread  in  the  sun  to  dry,  and  the  outer 
surface  is  shriveled  to  a pulp,  when  it  is  re- 


Las  Tier r as  Calientas. 


267 


moved  by  the  hand.  The  pericarp  or  thin  husk 
still  remains,  and  this  is  removed  by  being  bro- 
ken between  rollers  and  winnowed,  and  the  cof- 
fee berry  is  ready  for  market.  It  must  be 
shipped  alone  as  it  will  absorb  any  and  all  odors 
with  which  it  comes  in  contact,  and  a cup  of 
coffee  with  a Limburger  aroma  is  not  a desired 
innovation.  The  Mexican  prides  himself  on  the 
superiority  of  his  coffee  bean,  and  all  travelers 
praise  the  article  as  drunk  a la  Mexicana. 

A president  of  France  once  visited  a village 
hostelry,  and  asked  the  woman  in  charge  to 
bring  him  all  the  chicory  she  had  in  the  house. 
After  she  had  proudly  delivered  all  her  chicory 
to  him  he  said:  “And  now  madam,  I will  thank 
you  for  a cup  of  good  coffee.”  The  Mexican  is 
not  above  deception,  however.  Parrots  grow 
here  by  the  million  and  paroquets  by  the  billion, 
and  in  nearly  all  colors  of  the  rainbow,  but  only 
the  ones  with  the  yellow  head  will  ever  learn  to 
talk,  and  no  color  of  paroquets  will  do  more 
than  chatter.  But  what  is  that  small  thing  to 
a Mexican  ? He  simply  gets  a number  of  par- 
rots and  a pot  of  yellow  ochre,  and  in  three 
shakes  of  a sheep’s  tail  he  has  a cage  full  of 
yellow- head  parrots  worth  five  dollars  each  be- 
fore they  learn  to  talk.  They  next  spot  the 
American  “greenies”  with  money  to  burn,  and 
the  rest,  is  it  not  written  in  the  book  of  a retri- 
butive Nemesis  who  recorded  those  blue  streaks 
of  profanity  when  that  parrot  got  its  first  bath? 
Yea,  verily. 

“ In  ways  that  are  dark  and  tricks  that  are  vain, 

The  heathen  Chinee  is  peculiar.” 

Bert  Harte  may  come  down  here  with  his 
mandolin  and  pick  that  same  tune  in  Spanish 
and  he  will  receive  an  encore. 


268  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

The  Mexican  will  sell  you  “antiquias”  from 
a pyramid  that  he  made  last  month,  and  he  will 
sell  you  a coffee-wood  walking  stick  that  was 
made  from  an  old  railroad  crosstie  and  loaded 
with  lead,  and  he  will  sell  you  a blanket  he  stole 
from  you  last  night,  hut  when  you  call  for  cof- 
fee you  get  the  real  article,  and  it  is  not  pre- 
pared in  either  iron  or  tinned  vessels,  but  un- 
glazed pottery.  They  fill  your  cup  half  full  of 
coffee  and  half  full  of  milk  and  pass  you  the 
sugar,  ^nd  when  you  have  done,  like  Oliver 
Twist,  you  call  for  more. 


CHAPTER  XVIII . 


GUADALAJARA  IN  THE  VALE  OF  LERMA. 
UADALAJARA,  which  is  reached  by  the 


Mexican  Central  R.  R.  from  Irapuata, 


A was  built  in  1541  and  in  importance 
ranks  next  to  the  city  of  Mexico.  It  is  the 
capital  of  Jalisco,  situated  near  the  River  Lerma, 
which  here  changes  its  name  to  Santiago,  in 
the  midst  of  a plain  hemmed  in  on  three  sides  by 
mountains,  and  on  the  fourth  side  is  the  Canon 
of  Santiago  and  the  jumping-off  place  to  the 
Pacific  Ocean. 

Beang  the  only  city  of  importance  near  the 
Pacific  and  never  having  had  a railroad  till 
1888,  it  is  strictly  a Mexican  city  without 
foreign  tendency.  The  city  is  exceedingly 
beautiful,  with  streets  crossing  at  right  angles 
and  lined  with  orange  trees  for  shade,  the  rarest 
of  innovations  in  this  country.  There  are  a 
score  of  public  parks  with  music  stands,  four- 
teen portales  or  arcades  covering  the  sidewalks 
for  many  squares,  and  fourteen  bridges  span- 
ning the  San  Juan  River. 

The  Degollado  Theatre  is  the  largest  on  the 
continent,  with  the  possible  exception  of  the 
Metropolitan  in  New  York.  The  only  academy 
of  fine  arts  in  the  country  outside  the  capital  is 
here.  It  is  a great  manufacturing  city,  but  not 


270 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


a column  of  smoke  or  the  noise  of  a wheel  breaks 
the  Sunday  quiet.  It  is  entirely  what  the  word 
means — manufactures,  hand-made.  Pass  across 
the  little  river  among  the  humble  adobe  dwell- 
ings and  every  house  is  a work-shop  for  cotton 
and  silk  and  wool  and  leather  and  musical  in- 
struments. Seated  upon  the  dirt  floor  with  a 
distaff  in  her  hand,  I saw  Penelope  weaving  re- 
bosas  after  the  manner  of  the  ancient  Greeks. 
Two  doors  further  I saw  young  girls  w’itli  foot- 
power  looms  weaving  cotton  goods,  and  hard  by 
were  a score  of  young  women  weaving  hosiery 
wTith  small  hand-w^orked  machines.  Leather 
and  straw  hats  and  baskets  were  all  done  by 
hand,  and  wrhat  a busy  city  ! For  squares  and 
squares,  every  doorway  re\  ealed  a hive  of  busy 
W'orkers,  for  Guadalajara  must  supply  the 
country  a hundred  miles  around,  and  forever, 
and  forever,  the  pack-trains  from  the  Pacific 
country  and  the  mountains  come  and  go  with 
the  exchange  of  commerce.  It  is  the  busiest 
city  I have  yet  found  here  and  the  people  are 
happy.  Saddles  and  hats  and  hammocks  and 
baskets  and  pottery  and  shoes  aie  made  by  the 
thousand  tons  and  all  by  hand  or  the  crudest  of 
foot-power  machinery.  It  is  wonderful  to  see 
the  skill  of  mere  boys,  who  seem  to  inherit  the 
trades  of  their  ancestors,  like  the  watch-makers 
of  Switzerland  or  the  wood- carvers  of  Germany. 

Of  necessity,  hand-made  articles  come  high 
in  price,  and  that  forces  other  thousands  into 
the  trade  to  make  rather  than  to  buy.  A ma- 
nilla  hat  will  sell  for  four  dollars  right  in  the 
shop  where  it  is  made,  and  w'oolen  sombreros 
without  ornament  are  from  four  to  ten  dollars, 
and  a pair  of  French  suspenders  costs  a dollar 


Guadalajara  in  the  Vale  of  Lerma.  271 

and  a half.  A curious  custom  is  the  grouping 
together  of  all  similar  industries.  In  seeking  a 
pair  of  shoes  I was  sent  to  a quarter  of  the  town 
where  for  an  hour  every  open  door  gave  forth 
its  leather  odor,  and  the  wall  outside  was  lined 
with  leather  articles.  There  is  no  mooted  ques- 
tion about  shop-made  shoes.  Every  workman 
sits  in  front  of  his  door  with  his  kit  of  tools  on 
the  sidewalk  and  works  and  waits  for  custom, 
and  if  he  does  shoddy  work  it  is  done  under 
your  gaze.  All  the  rope  and  hemp  dealers  and 
workers  in  sisal  are  grouped  in  like  manner,  and 
the  far-famed  Guadalajara  pottery  can  be  found 
all  in  one  square.  Guadalajara  is  the  home  of 
the  chocolate  industry.  The  botanical  name  of 
the  chocolate  tree  is  Theohroma  cacao , and  on 
account  of  the  theobromine  the  seeds  contain,  it 
is  one  of  the  most  nourishing  foods  in  the 
country.  The  cacao  tree  grows  about  20  feet 
high.  The  leaves  are  large  and  the  flowers 
small,  and  the  fruit  is  a long  purple  pod  similar 
to  the  yellow  locust  pods  of  our  forests.  The 
pod  contains  from  twenty  to  forty  beans,  each 
very  similar  in  size  and  color  to  the  shelled  al- 
mond. Butter  made  from  these  beans  has  an 
agreeable  taste  and  odor,  and  rarely  becomes 
rancid.  The  principal  constituents  are  stearin 
and  olein,  and  is  much  used  in  surgery,  and  in 
France  is  used  in  pomade.  The  chocolate  of  com- 
merce is  prepared  by  roasting  the  seeds,  which 
establishes  the  aroma  and  changes  the  starch 
into  dextrin.  The  seeds  are  then  crushed,  win- 
nowed and  molded,  and  are  ready  for  export. 
For  instructions  in  the  art  of  preparing  the 
steaming  beverage,  consult  your  cook.  I do  not 
know. 


272  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

The  most  noted  point  in  the  city  is  the  Hos- 
picio  de  Guadalajara.  This  building  covers 
eight  acres  of  ground,  and  within  its  walls  are 
twenty-three  patios  or  open  courts  where  foun- 
tains play  and  flowers  bloom  in  the  open  air, 
and  mangoes,  oranges  and  bananas  grow  in  the 
very  doors.  This  is  a public  institution  for 
foundlings  and  orphans  and  the  deaf,  dumb  and 
blind.  Girls  and  boys,  occupy  opposite  sides  of 
the  building,  and  are  grouped  according  to  age. 
A matron  in  white  cap  led  me  through  the  en- 
tire establishment,  beginning  with  the  nursery 
with  its  long  rows  of  cribs  with  infants  of  all 
ages  and.  in  all  stages  of  humor.  Some  are 
orphans  by  necessity  and  some  by  desertion,  but 
they  have  a better  home  than  thousands  with 
healthy  parents.  Life  here  is  not  a sinecure 
and  the  children  are  all  taught  valuable  trades. 
Crippled  and  deformed  little  girls  were  embroid- 
ering and  embossing  laces  and  silks  upon  pat- 
terns so  intricate  it  looked  impossible  to  follow 
without  machinery.  I shall  never  again  believe 
that  the  Irish  and  Venetian  lace-workers  have 
a monopoly  of  this  wonderful  and  painfully  in- 
tricate knowledge.  There  is  a bazaar  in  the 
front  where  these  finished  articles  are  offered 
for  sale,  and  that  is  the  main  channel  through 
which  they  receive  gratuities.  A direct  gratuity 
would  be  respectfully  declined  as  it  is  a state 
institution  and  well  supported,  but  you  would 
be  told  that  to  purchase  these  articles  would  be 
directly  helpful  to  the  poor  unfortunates  who 
were  weaving  their  lives  into  those  wonderful 
patterns. 

I asked  the  matron  as  to  their  final  dispo- 
sition. She  said  that  the  afflicted  ones  would 


Guadalajara  in  the  Vale  of  Lerma.  273 

of  course  stay  still  death.  The  healthy  girls 
would  be  helped  to  places  of  self-support,  and 
the  boys  would  all  go  to  the  army,  if  they  had 
not  mastered  some  trade.  The  children  have  a 
beautiful  chapel  in  an  open  court  and  decorated 
in  the  most  pleasing  manner.  I learned  more  of 
the  nobler  side  of  the  Mexican  people  by  a day 
spent  here  than  in  all  my  wanderings  elsewhere. 
Sorrow  and  affliction  are  like  to  bring  us  in  a 
more  sympathetic  union,  and  the  hundreds  of 
patient  and  afflicted  children  trying  to  solve 
the  problems  of  life  under  difficulties,  force 
home  the  truth  that  all  human  nature  is  the 
same.  Except  for  the  Spanish  language,  these 
neatly  dressed  attendants  and  wards  could  not 
be  told  from  any  similar  institution  in  our  own 
land,  and  they  wall  compare  as  favorably  in  any 
line  of  conduct  or  results  achieved,  and  the 
moral  tone  and  timbre  of  the  institution  is  a 
paragon  of  excellence.  The  Hospicio  San  Mi- 
guel de  Belen  is  a similar  institution  for  afflic- 
ted adults  with  hospital,  lunatic  asylum  and 
school  attached. 

I suppose  penitentiary  life  is  never  pleasant, 
but  prison  life  here  is  the  most  pleasant  I have 
seen.  The  outer  walls  look  grim  enough,  but 
within  there  must  be  two  acres  of  flower  plots 
all  under  care  of  the  prisoners.  The  guards 
are  all  upon  the  walls  and  can  see  all  that  goes 
on  below.  The  penitentiary  is  arranged  like  a 
turbine  wheel,  or  rather  like  a wagon  wheel, 
vTith  avenues  from  all  parts  of  the  ground 
converging  to  a central  arena  without  roof,  and 
wrhere  the  prisoners  may  be  all  assembled  under 
inspection  if  need  be.  There  is  here  also  a 
reformatory  for  boys  with  dungeons  for  refrac- 


274 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


tory  ones  and  books  and  lessons  for  the  ignor- 
ant ones.  While  it  is  called  a penitentiary, 
there  are  no  long  term  men  there;  they  are  all 
in  the  army,  where  they  do  all  the  drudgery 
work  of  the  barracks.  They  wear  a distinctive 
uniform  and  would  be  instantly  shot  if  they 
attempted  to  escape.  It  is  very  easy  to  gain 
admission  here,  because  the  visitor  is  on  the 
wall  forty  feet  above  ground  and  every  part  of 
the  wall  is  traversed  by  narrow  bridges  across 
the  amphitheatre  over  which  the  guards  con- 
stantly travel.  The  prisoners  are  allowed  to 
come  to  the  office  and  sell  anything  they  manu- 
facture, and  their  friends  may  bring  them  the 
raw’  material,  so  a man  may  be  a prisoner  and 
yet  support  his  family.  The  building  contains 
a court  of  justice  ar.d  prisoners  from  the  patrol 
wagon  are  brought  directly  here  and  tried  and 
turned  into  their  wards. 

Monopolies  have  no  chance  here ; the  govern- 
ment controls  everything.  The  slaughter  house 
is  a model  of  cleanliness  and  vrater  is  freely 
used.  A hundred  or  more  animals  are  slaugh- 
tered daily  and  the  butchers  buy  as  the  animals 
are  quartered.  Prices  go  according  to  the  grade 
of  meat  and  as  it  is  a state  affair  there  is  no 
swindling  and  no  bidding  on  prices.  The  ani- 
mals are  slaughtered  without  cruelty.  One  is 
drawn  up  a gangway  b}^  a windlass  and  fastened 
so  it  cannot  struggle,  and  a knife  is  driven  be- 
hind the  horns,  severing  the  medulla  oblongata, 
and  another  into  the  heart,  and  the  blood  drawm 
off  by  a conduit  while  the  carcass  falls  into  a 
car  and  is  drawn  to  the  skinning  room  and  in 
six  minutes  is  quartered  and  sold.  The  city 
market  is  a w’onder  all  by  itself.  It  covers  an 


Guadalajara  in  the  Vale  of  Lerma.  275 

entire  square  and  the  roof  is  supported  by  196 
arched  portales  on  the  outside,  and  the  number 
within  the  mazy  interior  are  too  many  to  count. 
Underneath  is  sold  everything  that  is  common 
to  the  country. 

Across  the  San  Juan  River,  five  kilometers 
away,  is  the  suburban  town  of  San  Pedro.  The 
tram  car  passes  through  the  city  gate  under  a 
huge  arch  and  enters  a beautiful  avenue  of  giant 
elms  and  camphor  trees,  and  finally  stops  at  a 
shaded  plazuela  in  the  midst  of  the  little  town. 
The  town  for  the  most  part  consists  of  mud- 
colored  adobe  huts  with  no  comfort  or  conven- 
ience, but  you  soon  discover  that  this  is  a resi- 
dence town  of  the  merchants  of  Guadalajara. 
You  discover  this  by  the  lofty  stone  walls  shut- 
ting out  the  eyes  of  the  vulgar.  One  of  the  first 
indications  of  wealth  is  a desire  to  be  seclusive, 
and  to  wall  the  great  wTorld  out  from  one’s  own 
little  selfish  world.  Even  the  church  is  walled 
in  and  the  cemented  coping  stuck  with  jagged 
glass,  and  the  entrance  guarded  by  heavy  iron 
gates. 

But  San  Pedro  is  known  by  one  thing  alone 
worth  notice — pottery.  Guadalajara  pottery  is 
known  all  over  the  world.  Here  is  found  a 
peculiar  clay  that  gives  it  a priori  advantage, 
and  for  generations  the  making  of  pottery  has 
been  the  business  of  the  town,  and  the  knack  of 
the  thing  is  inherited.  The  delicate  and  artistic 
painting  is  done  by  people  who  never  had  a 
lesson  in  art  or  pigments.  Everything  in  the 
shape  of  a vessel  is  made  in  San  Pedro,  from  the 
huge  urns  that  hold  your  largest  lawn  plants  to 
the  minute  toy  that  may  be  covered  with  a 
button.  Not  only  vessels,  but  every  thing  the 


276  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

Mexican  has  ever  seen  he  can  reproduce  in  clay, 
be  it  horse  or  man  or  procession  or  bull-fight  or 
building,  and  he  will  make  it  as  true  to  life  and 
color  and  purpose  as  a photograph.  But  in 
San  Pedro  they  do  more  than  that.  You  can 
sit  for  a statue  or  a bust,  six  feet  or  six  inches, 
and  the  workman  will  take  his  clay  and  produce 
a likeness  your  own  mother  would  know.  They 
are  absolutely  true  to  life  in  every  respect,  and 
will  be  colored  as  to  eyes  and  clothes  to  the 
fractional  part  of  a division  of  a tint,  and  I 
refuse  to  abate  one  jot  or  tittle  of  the  statement. 

But  everybody  in  San  Pedro  can  do  that,  so 
we  have  not  yet  reached  the  celebrity.  To  find 
the  artist  of  Mexico,  of  Guadalajara,  of  San 
Pedro,  you  must  walk  two  squares  east  on  the 
street  that  leads  from  the  southeast  corner  of 
the  plaza,  turn  down  to  the  right  half  a square 
till  you  come  to  a little  tumble-down  adobe 
house  on  the  left.  The  latchstring  is  on  the 
outside  and  you  are  always-  welcome.  Within 
is  Juan  Pandero,  the  Indian  sculptor,  a genius 
if  there  is  one.  To  be  exact  there  are  two, 
father  and  son.  If  you  want  a statuette  of  your 
beautiful  self  it  is  made  while  you  wait,  or  will 
be  built  and  sent  to  your  hotel,  or  he  will 
go  to  your  room  and  do  it.  But  more  than  that, 
send  him  your  photograph  and  he  will  do  the 
same,  and  herein  lies  his  genius.  Only  these 
two  can  produce  statues  from  photographs,  and 
they  will  be  as  true  to  life  as  though  he  made 
them  from  models.  And  the  tools.  Such  tools! 
Seated  on  the  floor  with  a lump  of  clay  and  an 
old  case  knife,  and  the  outfit  is  complete. 

From  the  hill  of  San  Pedro,  the  City  of  Guad- 
alajara and  the  Yale  of  the  Lerma  lie  before 


Guadalajara  in  the  Vale  of  Lerma.  277 

you,  and  you  notice  what  you  have  noticed  a 
hundred  times  before,  how  like  the  hills  of 
Palestine  are  the  landscape.  Take  any  series 
of  pictures  of  the  Holy  Land  and  of  Mexico, 
and  no  person  who  had  not  traveled  in  one  or 
the  other  could  tell  the  difference.  The  houses 
low,  flat-roofed  and  painted  white,  the  absence 
of  trees  and  the  naked  plain  force  the  resemblance 
every  time  a vista  is  opened. 

Back  to  the  city  among  those  magnificent  elms 
and  to  the  Paseo.  The  Paseo  ! what  would  any 
Mexican  city  be  without  its  Paseo,  where  fash- 
ionable people  take  their  outing  with  such 
system  and  abandon  ? This  Paseo  extends  for 
a mile  along  both  sides  of  the  Rio  San  Juan  de 
Dios.  There  are  also  the  Botanical  gardens,  and 
the  Alameda,  and  the  mint  and  state  buildings 
with  the  finest  of  architecture,  so  unlooked  for 
in  this  far-away  place.  Churches  ! ah  yes,  same 
old  thing,  even  to  the  earthquake  brand,  and 
they  are  costly  and  beautiful.  The  cathedral 
was  begun  in  1561  and  completed  in  1618.  Both 
towers  were  thrown  down  by  an  earthquake  in 
1818.  Paintings  without  number  adorn  the 
wall.  The  Assumption,  by  Murillo,  is  a genuine 
master-piece.  All  the  saints  in  this  part  of  the 
vineyard  have  been  remembered  in  the  christen- 
ing. There  are  El  Sagraria,  San  Francisco,  San 
Augustin,  San  Felipe,  La  Campania,  Guadalupe, 
Mexicalt-zingo,  Jesus  Maria,  Capuchinas,  Santa 
Monica,  El  Carmen,  San  Jose  de  Analco,  San 
Sebastian  de  Analco,  La  Parroqua  de  Jesus,  San 
Juan  de  Dios,  Aranzazu,  La  Soledad,  San  Diego, 
Belen,  La  Concepcion,  La  Trinidad  y la  Parro- 
qua del  Pilar,  and  I am  tired  of  naming  them ; 
but  if  you  will  get  an  almanac  and  call  off  all 


278  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

the  saints  in  the  calendar,  I will  agree  to  find 
their  churches  christened  and  waiting  for  them 
in  Guadalajara. 

Nothing  but  a conscientious  duty  makes  me 
go  around  among  these  old  paintings,  and  what  do 
I know  about  them  ? I stood  in  an  art  gallery 
once  before  a picture  called  “The  Transfigura- 
tion;” my  companion  asked  me  how  much  was 
it  worth.  I sized  up  the  gilt  frame  and  meas- 
ured the  space  it  covered  and  said  it  must  have 
cost  ten  dollars.  He  pointed  to  the  name  in  one 
corner  and  said  in  disgust:  “Don’t  you  see 
Raphael’s  name  on  there?  that  picture  is  worth 
forty  thousand  dollars ! ” I dropped  my  cata- 
logue to  hold  my  palpitating  heart  in  place  and 
told  him  I knew  better.  Why,  there  were  not 
ten  yards  of  canvas  in  the  whole  thing,  and 
the  molding  was  not  much  over  eight  inches 
wide  and  there  was  not  fifty  feet  of  it,  and  I 
knew  the  price  of  molding  and  canvas  too. 
Forty  thousand  dollars ! who  ever  heard  the  like  ? 
“But  it  is  not  the  frame,  goosie,  look  at  the 
picture!  ” I looked  at  it,  and  then  I told  him 
to  look  at  the  picture  on  the  other  side,  at  that 
Stag  Fight,  or  at  that  fellow  on  the  beech-log 
fishing,  and  “there’s  a picture  to  look  at.” 

He  cast  a withering  glance  at  me  and  said 

some  words  which  sounded  like  this:  “ ! 

!! ! ! ! natural  born  fool.”  I stayed  an 

hour  trying  to  get  educated  enough  to  see  the 
forty  thousand  dollars.  Hundreds  of  people 
came,  looked  in  the  catalogue  at  the  price  and 
then  showed  their  superior  education.  “Now, 
that’s  what  I call  art.”  “Just  look  at  the  ex- 
pression.” “What  an  ensemble!”  “Note 
the  radiance  of  that  halo ! ” I merely  asked 


Guadalajara  in  the  Vale  of  Lerma.  279 

them  what  was  it  anyway.  Some  said  it  was 
the  price,  some  said  it  was  an  original  old  mas- 
ter, and  some  said  it  was  both.  I saw  hundreds 
of  pictures  I liked  better,  but  I was  out  of  style. 
I saw  a beech  forest  with  silver  bark  and  purple 
and  brown  leaves  that  I thought  was  a gem,  and 
some  one  turned  up  his  nose  in  disgust  and 
pointed  to  the  price;  only  $25  ! bah  ! And  then 
I wept  because  my  art  education  had  been  so 
sadly  neglected,  and  so  I never  miss  an  oppor- 
tunity now  to  improve  it.  Now,  when  the  guide 
strikes  an  attitude  and  proudly  points  to  a 
painting  and  says:  “ Murillo !”  I throw  up 
both  hands  and  step  back  a pace  or  two  and  say: 
“ Murillo\  Murillo ! Ah,  Murillo ! Just  look 
at  that  expression!  What  an  ensemble!”  Then 
I look  at  the  guide’s  face  to  see  how  I am  get- 
ting along,  and  he  looks  happy,  and  then  we 
pass  on.  Then  he  stops.  “The  Entombment, 
by  Titian,  $50,000.”  Then  I go  into  ecstacies 
and  strike  another  attitude:  “The  Entomb- 
ment! $50,000!  Titian!  $50,000 ! Ah,  Titian ! 
$50,000!  That’s  art!”  When  we  stopped  again 
I was  just  about  to  raise  my  hands  again,  and 
looked  to  him  for  my  cue,  but  he  said:  “By  a 
Mexican,  $25.”  “Oh!”  I said  in  contempt. 

“Just  a daub  ! Why  in  the  name  of  Saint  Peter 
doesn’t  that  man  learn  to  paint !”  That  guide 
said  I ought  to  make  art  my  calling,  and  I do 
not  know  till  this  day  what  he  meant. 

Of  course  excursions  outside  of  the  city  are 
in  order.  The  cars  lead  to  Tlacotalpam,  about 
five  kilometers  away,  a quaint  old  town  that 
looks  like  Rip  Yan  Winkle’s  summer  residence. 
The  Falls  of  Juanacatlan  are  farther.  You 
go  by  rail  twelve  miles  to  Castillo,  and  go  by 


280  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

horse-car  one  league  farther  to  the  River  Lerma. 
The  river  is  over  a hundred  yards  wide  and  the 
cascade  is  seventy-one  feet  high.  In  high  water 
the  falls  are  beautiful,  but  a huge  flour-mill  has 
been  erected  which  draws  most  of  the  water 
through  a flume  when  the  river  is  low,  at  which 
time  it  is  possible  to  walk  across  the  rocks  the 
entire  distance  above  the  falls.  The  mill  was 
not  completed  when  I was  there,  but  judging  by 
the  name  it  bears,  it  will  be  a very  correct  and 
moral  mill.  The  part  of  the  name  as  com- 
pleted reads:  u The  Mill  of  the  Sacred  Heart 
of  Jesus  and  Mary  Magdalene;”  and  when  the 
annex  is  added  to  the  mill,  I was  assured  that 
the  rest  of  the  name  would  be  added,  as  at 
present  there  was  not  enough  room.  Between 
Castillo  and  the  falls  is  a rich  valley  covered 
with  fine  beef  cattle  for  the  city  market, 
and  here  can  be  witnessed  some  of  the  finest 
work  of  roping  cattle  to  be  found  among  cow- 
boys. While  in  full  gallop  they  can  rope  any 
foot  of  the  animal  that  may  be  desired. 

Above  here  the  river  Lerma  passes  through 
Lake  Chapala,  and  as  it  emerges  from  the  other 
side  it  bears  the  name  of  Rio  Grande  de  Santi- 
ago. Surely  baptism  is  a wonderful  alembic 
that  can  make  a saint  of  a muddy  Jittle  river  by 
one  emersion  only.  But  its  good  works  follow 
it,  and  where  it  empties  into  the  Pacific,  behold 
the  Bay  of  San  Bias!  It  was  from  Lake  Chapala 
that  the  Aztec  migration  began,  618  A.  D.,  for 
the  valley  of  Mexico,  and  on  this  march  their 
name  was  changed  from  Aztecs  to  Mexicatls,  in 
honor  of  their  war-god,  Mexitli.  Soon  after  the 
river  leaves  the  lake,  and  just  beyond  Guadala- 
jara, it  forms  a wonderful  canon,  which  for 


Guadalajara  in  the  Vale  of  Lerma.  281 

grandeur  is  not  surpassed  on  this  continent. 
The  chasm  is  a narrow  barranca  two  thousand 
feet  down  its  perpendicular  walls. 

You  stand  on  the  brink  in  the  tierra  templada 
and  behold  the  tiny,  silver  stream  a full  half 
mile  below  you  in  the  tierra  caliente , the  hot 
lands  of  the  Pacific.  You  will  never  see  else- 
where such  a wTork  of  nature  as  the  canon  de 
Rio  Santiago.  No,  not  even  in  the  Colorado 
Canon.  It  seems  as  though  the  great  Titans  in 
play  had  spaded  this  great  block  of  the  conti- 
nent from  those  perpendicular  walls,  and  hurled 
it  at  the  Cyclops  in  the  sea. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


TIIE  CITIES  OF  TIIE  PLAIN. 
NTERING  Mexico  from  El  Paso  on  the 


Mexican  Central  R.  R.,  we  traverse  the 


-J— — ^ plateau  that  is  continuous  from  Santa 
Fe  to  the  City  of  Mexico;  and  dreary  enough, 
too,  is  the  journey,  with  a perpetual  landscape 
of  mesquite  brush,  cactus  and  chaparral.  The 
first  place  of  interest  is  Chihuahua,  two  hun- 
dred and  twenty-four  miles  from  the  Rio  Grande, 
with  its  famous  silver  mines  of  Santa  Eulalia. 
The  city  laid  a tax  of  twenty-five  cents  on  every 
pound  of  silver  taken  from  the  mine,  and  with 
its  share  of  the  revenue,  built  the  famous 
church  of  San  Francisco  at  a cost  of  eight  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars. 

This  is  the  home  of  the  Chihuahua  dog,  a 
beautiful  nervous  little  creature  that  is  smaller 
than  a squirrel  and  can  easily  be  carried  in  the 
pocket.  It  somewhat  resemble  a marmoset, 
and  is  bought  by  people  who  are  inclined 
toward  pets.  I have  heard  it  darkly  hinted 
that  the  Mexican  hot  tamale  was  largely  made 
up  of  Chihuahua  dogs,  but  after  seeing  the 
animal  I do  not  believe  it,  as  it  would  not  pay 
dividends.  Judging  by  the  size,  a person  with 
an  ordinary  appetite  could  easily  misplace  two 
of  them,  and  as  tamales  sell  for  a cent  a piece 


282 


The  Cities  of  the  Plain.  283 

or  twelve  cents  for  a square  meal,  the  dearest 
principle  of  speculation  ’would  be  sacrificed  with 
a dollar  dog  cooked  up  with  a plebeian  mongrel. 
It  is  true  I have  never  known  what  was  in  the 
scores  of  tamales  with  which  I have  made  a 
personal  acquaintance,  but  I will  never  believe 
that  a Chihuahua  dog  was  actually  killed  for 
that  purpose.  With  the  armadilla  it  is  different. 
His  market  value  is  only  rated  by  the  number  of 
steaks  or  tamales  he  will  make  up,  and  of  him  I 
can  believe  anything. 

All  of  this  country  for  almost  a thousand 
miles  is  devoted  to  mining,  which  forms  almost 
the  only  industry.  At  Lerdo,  near  the  Nazas 
River  is  the  choicest,  cotton-growing  section  of 
the  country.  This  is  the  Laguna  region  and  is 
very  similar  to  the  Nile.  It  rarely  rains, 
but  with  irrigation,  wheat  and  corn  grow  all  the 
time,  and  cotton  has  to  be'  planted  only  once  in 
seven  years,  as  it  grows  that  long  from  one 
planting.  Eight  hundred  miles  from  the  Rio 
Grande  and  four  hundred  and  forty  miles  from 
the  city  is  Zacatecas,  a city  of  eighty-five  thous- 
and and  the  capital  of  Zacatecas.  Nothing 
grows  here  but  rocks  and  silver,  and  I believe 
they  do  not  grow  any  more,  but  they  have  a great 
deal  of  the  old  stock  still  on  hand.  In  the  heart 
of  the  Sierra  Madres,  this  old  town  is  built  upon 
a silver  mine  which  was  discovered  in  1546  and 
since  then  has  disgorged  a billion  dollars. 

The  sight  of  the  town  from  the  north  is 
startling.  You  have  climbed  to  a height  of 
8,000  feet  and  see  no  indication  of  a city  until 
the  train  crosses  the  crest.  At  night  when  the 
city  is  a blaze  of  light  it  surpasses  anything 
seen  outside  of  Fairyland,  as  the  train  winds  in 


284  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

a spiral  down  into  town,  dropping  136  feet  to 
the  mile.  At  the  station  the  mules  have  pulled 
up  the  street  cars  and  gone  back  to  town,  and 
as  you  get  aboard  the  driver  loosens  the  brake 
and  lets  the  car  roll  into  town  by  gravity.  Like 
the  nests  of  swallows  clinging  to  the  cliffs  are 
the  houses  of  Zacatecas,  perched  far  up  where 
it  seems  only  a goat  could  climb. 

And  Zacatecas  also  has  its  Guadalupe,  upon 
whose  summit  is  the  church  of  Los  Remedios, 
and  up  the  road,  as  narrow  as  the  one  which 
leads  to  righteousness  and  as  rocky  as  the  one 
up  from  Jordan,  lined  with  sharp  stones  and 
crull  cactus,  crawl  devotees  on  bleeding  knees 
to  do  penance  for  their  souls’  salvation,  at  the 
behests  of  priests  who  grow  rich  from  their  sav- 
ings. Of  course  all  the  saints  have  churches 
named  for  them,  and  here  is  probably  the  oldest 
Presbyterian  Church  in  the  world.  It  was  once 
dedicated  to  San  Augustin,  but  has  now  become 
the  property  of  the  Presbyterians.  In  the  old 
church  of  Guadalupe  is  probably  more  to  interest 
the  stranger  than  in  any  other  church  in  this 
land  of  churches.  In  the  main  altar  are  life-size 
figures  of  the  crucifixion,  and  behind  these  is  a 
painting  of  Calvary  with  the  Jews  and  Roman 
soldiers,  drawn  to  affiliate  with  the  statues  in 
front  with  startling  effect.  The  church  is  filled 
with  people  kneeling  at  the  altars  and  whisper- 
ing in  the  confessionals.  The  old  art  gallery 
is  filled  with  pictures  of  the  saints  in  all  grada- 
tions of  trials  and  temptations  which  prepared 
them  for  immortality.  The  new  chapel  is  the 
gift  of  a maiden  lady  of  great  wealth,  and  is 
the  finest  chapel  in  Mexico.  The  floor  is  inlaid 
with  hard  woods  in  different  colors,  and  the  altar 


The  Cities  of  the  Plain. 


285 


is  rich  with  silver  and  gold  and  gilding  and  wax 
figures,  and  silk  and  satin  hangings.  The  altar 
rail  is  of  onyx  and  solid  silver.  The  walls  are 
finely  frescoed,  and  arched  to  a dome  fifty  feet 
above  the  floor.  Everywhere  are  mines,  mines, 
and  from  their  yawning  mouths  the  Mexican 
laborers  climb  ladders  all  day,  bearing  on  their 
back  canvas  sacks  holding  twTo  hundred  pounds 
of  ore,  and  receive  the  princely  sum  of  thirty- 
five  cents  a day.  The  richest  churches  and  the 
poorest  people  in  Mexico  are  always  found  in 
the  same  towrn  and  are  correlative.  The  very 
fact  that  the  people  are  poor,  is  because  they 
have  made  the  church  rich.  A million  dollar 
church  whose  portals  are  filled  with  a hundred 
ragged  paupers  begging  alms  is  an  every  day 
occurrence. 

As  the  train  leaves  Zacatecas  going  south,  it 
climbs  a grade  one  hundred  and  seventy-five 
feet  to  the  mile,  and  ere  long  reaches  Aguas 
Calientes,  “Hot  Waters,”  and  the  town  runs 
riot  in  smoking,  steaming,  hot  waters  that  burst 
from  the  mountain  side  and  offer  free  baths  and 
prepared  laundry  facilities  free  gratis  for 
nothing  to  all  who  wish  them,  and  they  are 
thoroughly  appreciated.  Men,  women  and 
children  paddle  in  the  water  and  bathe  and 
dress  and  undress  with  no  worry  at  all  about 
the  small  conventionalities  of  privacy,  etc.  Now 
and  then  you  will  see  a baby  tied  to  a string, 
who  paddles  to  the  length  of  his  tether  while 
his  mother  is  busy  with  her  laundering.  The 
town  was  built  in  1520  and  is  worthy  of  a visit 
at  any  time,  but  to  see  it  in  its  glory  you  must 
come  to  La  fiesta  de  San  Marcos.  Saint  Mark 
is  the  patron  saint  of  the  city,  and  from  April  23 


286  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

to  May  10,  all  the  turkeys  in  reach  are  slaugh- 
tered to  grace  the  festal  board  and  the  busi- 
ness houses  close  for  a holiday.  There  is  a fine  old 
bell  in  the  great  church  by  the  plaza,  and  when- 
ever it  is  heard  the  peons  uncover  their  heads, 
cross  their  hands  and  engage  in  prayer.  People 
from  all  over  the  country  come  here  to  bathe  in 
the  hot  waters  and  take  life  easy.  It  is  better 
than  heating  water  at  home.  Fruit  is  abundant 
and  cheap,  oranges  selling  two  for  a cent  in 
Mexican  money,  or  four  for  a cent  in  Uncle 
Samuel’s  coin.  Flowers  grows  so  luxuriously 
in  this  warm  moist  atmosphere,  that  geraniums 
and  oleanders  grow  to  the  height  of  trees. 

Below  Aguas  Calientes  is  the  city  of  Leon,  on 
the  river  Turbois,  in  the  state  of  Guanajuata. 
It  contains  a hundred  thousand  population  and 
is  the  third  city  in  importance  in  Mexico.  It 
has  five  hundred  and  seven  streets,  two  hun- 
dred and  thirty-six  manzanas  and  ten  plazas. 
Nearly  everything  in  use  by  the  citizen  is  made 
here,  but  the  leather  industry  prevails.  There 
is  no  machinery  whatever,  but  everywhere  are 
handlooms  for  weaving  rebosas , shops  for  the 
making  of  bridles  and  the  cruel  spade-like 
bridle-bits,  saddles,  leather  clothing  and  som- 
breros, so  much  prized  by  cow-boys  and  liaci- 
endados. 

Guanajuata  is  the  capital  of  the  state  and  is 
pronounced  “Wah-nah-water.”  The  original 
name  of  the  town  was  Guanashuata,  “The  Hill 
of  the  Frogs”  in  the  Tarascan  tongue,  on  ac- 
count of  the  fanciful  shape  of  the  overhanging 
mountain.  For  three  hundred  years  mining  has 
been  the  business  of  this  city  which  contains 
sixty  crushing  mills  to  reduce  the  quartz.  The 


The  Cities  of  the  Plain.  287 

richest  silver  mine  in  the  country  is  here,  the 
Yeta  Madre,  which  has  already  produced 
$800,000,000  by  the  crude  methods  in  vogue 
here,  which  never  secure  over  sixty  percent  of 
the  real  value.  Owing  to  the  scarcity  of  fuel 
and  water,  machinery  is  impractical,  so  the 
usual  method  of  extraction  is  as  follows : the 
rock  is  ground  into  a fine  powder  and  made  into 
a paste  with  water,  and  spread  upon  the  floor  of 
a large  court  a hundred  feet  square,  after  the 
manner  of  a brick-yard  mortar-pit ; then  certain 
prepartions  of  salt,  sulphate  of  iron  and  quick- 
silver are  added,  and  for  three  weeks  a drove 
of  broken-down  donkeys  and  men  tramp  leg- 
deep  in  this  huge  mud-pie.  When  the  amalga- 
mation is  complete  and  the  quicksilver  has  col- 
lected all  the  silver,  it  is  taken  in  wheel-barrows 
to  washing  tanks,  where  half-naked  men  and 
boys  puddle  it  till  the  metal  falls  to  the  bottom 
and  the  refuse  washes  away.  It  is  barbarous 
treatment  for  men  and  animals,  and  a slow 
method,  but  the  only  practical  one  where  coal 
sells  for  $20  a ton  and  wood  $11  a cord.  Wad- 
ing naked  in  quicksilver  and  vitriol  is  not  cal- 
culated to  lengthen  life,  and  the  life  of  mules 
in  this  business  is  generally  four  years  and  of 
the  drivers  eight,  and  yet  they  never  lack  for 
drivers.  The  mines  average  $83  to  ever}7-  ton  of 
raw  material  handled,  and  the  silver  is  so  plenti- 
ful and  the  profits  so  satisfactory  that  the  forty 
percent,  loss  does  not  trouble  the  owners.  The 
85,000  people  all  get  a living  and  are  happy  and 
what  more  is  needful. 

Queretaro  with  its  fifty  thousand  population 
is  especially  noted  for  opals.  It  is  a remarkable 
fact  that  every  industry  in  Mexico  is  distri- 


288  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

buted  by  towns.  Irapuato  for  strawberries, 
Celaya  for  dulces,  Lerdo  for  cotton  goods,  Leon 
for  leather,  Puebla  for  onyx,  Orizaba  for  fruits, 
Saltillo  for  Zer;«pes,  Guadalajara  for  pottery, 
Jalapa  for  beautiful  women,  and  so  on  from  Dan 
to  Beersheba.  And  so  Queretaro  contains  the 
mines  which  produce  the  fiery  opal  which 
brings  so  much  ill  luck  to  the  owners,  according 
to  the  reigning  superstition.  This  was  an 
Aztec  town,  captured  by  the  Spaniards  in  1531. 
It  was  here  the  treaty  of  peace  with  the  United 
States  was  finally  ratified  in  1848,  and  where 
Mr.  Seward  was  met  with  so  much  honor  in 
1869.  The  Hercules  Cotton  Mill  is  the  greatest 
attraction  of  Queretaro  and  one  of  the  greatest 
in  the  country.  It  has  an  over- shot  water- 
wheel forty-six  and  a half  feet  in  diameter,  and 
also  a Corliss  steam  engine  which  burns  wood 
costing  sixteen  dollars  a cord.  One  thousand 
eight  hundred  employees  work  here  twelve  hours 
a day  with  wages  from  thirty-seven  and  a half 
to  fifty  cents  a day,  and  weavers  get  six  or 
seven  dollars  a week.  The  premises  are  walled 
in  by  a fort,  and  in  front  is  stationed  a company 
of  thirty-seven  men  with  Winchester  rifles. 
All  large  establishments  have  to  do  this,  as  the 
large  amount  of  money  changing  hands  on  pay- 
day is  but  an  invitation  to  desperate  men  of  the 
Jesse  James  persuasion  to  make  an  informal 
call.  This  mill  has  twenty-one  thousand 
spindles  and  seven  hundred  looms,  and  manu- 
factures the  unbleached  cotton  which  the  com- 
mon people  wear.  In  the  midst  of  a profusion 
of  flowers  stands  a statue  of  Hercules  which 
cost  fourteen  thousand  dollars  before  it  left 
Italy.  Protective  tariff  in  favor  of  this  mill 


The  Cities  of  the  Plain. 


289 


against  imports  is  nine  and  three  quarter  cents 
per  square  metre,  which  enables  it  to  sell  its 
cloth  at  thirteen  cents  per  square  yard  wholesale. 
A better  grade  of  goods  is  sold  in  the  United 
States  for  five  cents.  Free  Trade  is  yet  a long 
ways  off  in  Mexico. 

Maximilian  and  his  two  generals  were  shot 
here,  and  the  saddest  thing  connected  with  the 
history  is  the  fate  of  poor  Carlotta,  his  wife. 
She  was  very  dear  to  the  people  of  Mexico,  and 
when  Maximilian  was  taken  prisoner  many 
people  pleaded  for  his  life.  The  governments 
of  Europe  protested  against  his  execution,  and 
the  United  States  asked  a stay  of  his  sentence. 
The  princess  Salm-Salm  rode  a hundred  and 
sixty  miles  on  horseback  and  on  bended  knee 
prayed  Juarez  to  spare  his  life.  The  next  da}7- 
after  his  capture,  Carlotta  hurried  to  Vera  Cruz 
and  set  sail  for  France  and  begged  Napoleon  III 
to  keep  his  word  and  uphold  the  treaty  of 
Miramar,  and  Napoleon  insulted  her  for  her 
trouble.  She  then  went  to  Rome  and  prayed  to 
Pope  Pius  IX.  but  fared  eo  better  and  distracted 
by  her  failures  she  became  a raving  maniac,  and 
for  these  thirty  years  no  light  of  reason  has 
ever  returned,  but  in  the  Austrian  capital  she 
sits  in  gross  darkness,  babbling  the  name  of 
Maximilian.  As  for  the  Indian  president,  Juarez, 
he  listened  to  all  petitions  but  gave  but  one 
answer;  that  war  was  war,  and  as  for  sickly 
sentimentalism,  he  had  gone  out  of  the  posing 
business,  and  they  who  lived  by  the  sword  should 
die  by  the  sword. 

While  Maximilian  was  in  power,  he  issued  a 
decree  that  every  officer  taken  in  arms  against 
the  government  should  be  shot,  without  trial, 


290 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


and  he  executed  that  decree  with  every  Mexican 
officer  he  captured.  Now  Juarez  was  in  power 
and  the  law  had  never  been  repealed,  and  he 
decided  it  would  work  as  well  with  Juarez  as 
with  Maximilian.  Aside  from  all  this  he  de- 
cided that  one  dead  Austrian  Emperor  on  Mexi- 
can soil  was  worth  a hundred  live  ones,  and 
Juarez  always  lived  up  to  his  convictions. 

P.  S.  Maximilian  was  shot. 

Pachuca  is  the  capital  of  Hidalgo,  eight  thous- 
and feet  above  the  sea,  and  overcoats  are  needed 
the  whole  year.  There  are  three  hundred  mines 
here  and  the  business  has  been  carried  on  f<*ur 
hundred  years,  and  the  quantity  of  silver  taken 
out  will  never  be  known.  The  Trinidad  alone  in 
ten  years  yielded  fifty  million  dollars.  The 
other  principal  mines  are  the  Rosario,  Caridado, 
Xacal,  Santa  Gertrudis,  Caxyetana  and  Dolores. 
At  Acambaro  we  change  cars  for  the  Lake  Reg- 
ion, through  the  beautiful  towns  of  Morelia,  the 
capital  of  Michoacan  and  the  residence  of  the 
Bishop.  In  olden  times  when  the  Tarascan 
Kings  got  tired  acting  King,  they  took  their 
boats,  and  leaving  Tzintzuntzan,  their  capital, 
paddled  over  to  Patzcuaro,  “Place  of  Pleasure.” 

The  town  is  very  old  and  the  streets  are  very 
crooked,  with  shrines  and  saints  set  in  the  walls 
at  every  corner,  but  the  old  settlers  were  right 
when  they  called  it  a place  of  pleasure.  After 
a good  night’s  rest  it  is  the  proper  thing  to  see 
the  sunrise,  that  will  leave  its  impression  with 
you  forever.  Up  the  street  to  the  Hill  of  Cal- 
vary you  pass  fourteen  stations  of  the  Cross 
where  the  faithful  pray.  You  hurry  on  to  Los 
Balcones,  a stone  parapet  in  front  of  the  church 
of  Calvary  and  what  a sight  meets  your  eye! 


The  Cities  of  the  Plain. 


291 


From  3’our  elevation  of  a mile  and  a half  above 
the  sea,  the  world  is  spread  before  you  like  a 
panorama.  Spread  at  your  feet  is  Laguna 
Paizcuaro,  “Lake  Beautiful,”  with  its  green 
islands  and  giant  trees,  and  as  the  sun  comes  up 
out  of  the  Sierras  he  discloses  to  your  enchanted 
gaze  a level  plain  with  forty-three  towns 
with  a setting  of  mountains  and  valleys  worth  a 
journey  to  see.  Lake'  Patzcuaro  is  the  highest 
navigable  water  on  the  globe,  being  over  seven 
thousand  feet  high.  It  is. a thousand  feet  below 
you  on  Los  Balcones,  but  its  thirty  miles  of 
length  and  twelve  of  width  are  before  you  as  a 
mirror.  On  its  bosom  is  the  quaintest  little 
steamboat  that  ever  paddled  a wheel,  the  Mari- 
ano Jiminez,  and  it  will  take  you  among  all  the 
beautiful  islands,  and  to  the  old  town  of  Tzin- 
tzuntzan.  This  was  once  the  capital  of  the 
ancient  Kingdom  of  Tarasco  that  resisted  to  the 
last  the  sovereignty  of  Montezuma,  and  after 
the  Conquest  was  the  seat  of  the  Bishopric  of 
Tarasco.  This  Bishopric  was  held  in  such  high 
esteem  by  Philip  II  of  Spain  that  he  presented 
the  cathedral  with  the  finest  creation  from  the 
brush  of  Titian,  “The  Entombment.”  The  old 
church  is  crumbling  down,  but  the  Indians  ven- 
erate the  painting  so  much  the  Bishop  has  for- 
bidden its  removal.  Art  lovers  have  offered 
immense  sums  for  it,  but  the  church  authorities 
refuse  to  entertain  offers  in  any  sum,  and  so  it 
hangs  Avhere  it  wTas  hung  over  three  hundred 
years  ago. 

The  lake  is  dotted  wTith  innumerable  fisher 
boats  and  timber  rafts  and  large  flat-bottom 
boats  hewm  from  giant  trees.  The  fishermen 
simply  dip  their  nets  in  the  water  at  random  and 


292 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


catch  the  fish,  which  here  form  one  of  the  chief 
articles  of  food ; but  we  started  out  to  study  art, 
and  not  fish,  so  we  land  on  the  opposite  side  to 
see  the  famous  painting  which  is  so  zealously 
guarded.  You  are  admitted  through  the  outer 
wall  into  the  patio  where  sit  a number  of  Indian 
women  braiding  mats,  and  the  padre  said  they 
were  doing  penance.  With  a lighted  candle  the 
padre  leads  you  through  a dark  corridor  to  a 
grim  d<. or,  barred,  chained  and  padlocked. 
This  door  leads  into  a chamber  dark  as  night. 
The  padre  opens  a grated  window  and  lets  in  a 
flood  of  light  and  the  picture  lies  revealed  with 
its  life-size  figures.  You  know  you  are  in  the 
presence  of  the  great  master,  because  everybody 
says  so. 

Artists  from  every  part  of  the  world  have 
come  to  see  this  painting  and  they  all  say  it  is  a 
genuine  Titian,  and  I knew  this  was. the  proper 
place  and  time  to  expiate  on  art  as  I had  heard 
those  learned  critics  do  before  the  Transfigura- 
tion. I had  finished  nearly  all  the  phrases  they 
said  when  the  padre  closed  the  window  and 
the  flood-gate  of  my  eloquence.  Ah,  but  it  was 
grand ! After  the  padre  had  blown  out  the 
light,  barred,  chained  and  pad-locked  the  door, 
a new  idea  came  to  me.  The  bishop  of  Mexico 
has  offered  these  Indians  fifty  thousand  dollars 
for  the  picture  and  they  laughed  at  him,  and 
ten  times  that  figure  cannot  buy  it.  All  the 
figures  are  life-size  and  it  is  large  enough,  but 
fifty  thousand  dollars  will  plaster  both  sides. 
My  idea  is  to  go  down  there  to  Tzintzuntzan  and 
get  a job  of  doing  penance  in  that  old  church 
and  finally  get  myself  elected  guardian  of  the 
keys  to  that  room,  and  then  I will  write  this 


The  Cities  of  the  Plain.  298 

letter  to  the  bishop  of  Mexico:  “ Dear  Bishop: 
I hear  that  you  have  money  to  burn ; also  that 
you  have  fifty  thousand  dollars  to  invest  in  old 
canvas,  especially  the  brand  that  adorns  the 
dark  alcove  in  the  old  cathedral  at  Tzintzuntzan. 
If  you  mean  b-i-z,  meet  me  at  the  Rialto  on 
Lake  Beautiful  this  P.  M.,  just  as  the  moon  is 
rising  in  China,  and  we  will  give  that  old  can- 
vas the  first  fresh  air  bath  it  has  had  in  three 
hundred  years. 

“P.  S. — Come  prepared  to  move  in  light  march- 
ing order,  because  the  state  of  Michoacan  -will 
hardly  be  large  enough  for  you  and  the  picture 
after  morning  mass. 

“N.  B.,  P.  S.  No.  2. — Don’t  forget  the  fifty 
thousand  dollars,  for 

“Yours  Truly.” 

If  ever  I get  to  be  doorkeeper  down  there  I 
shall  certainly  vote  to  use  that  fresh  air  fund  to 
the  best  advantage,  and  there  will  still  be  profit 
enough  to  give  all  those  enthusiastic  art  lovers 
a square  meal  after  I have  started  to  Canada, 
and  I certainly  would  do  that  much  for  them. 
In  coming  years  when  the  Tzintzuntzan  poets 
shall  say,  “ What  are  the  wild  waves  saying?” 
they  will  answer,  that  they  saw  the  only  hust- 
ling doorkeeper  that  old  church  ever  had,  cross 
that  lake  between  two  days  once,  and  before 
Aurora,  child  of  the  morn,  had  awakened  from 
her  sleep,  he  had  reached  the  other  side  of  the 
mountains  and  lit  running. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


DIVES  AND  LAZARUS. 

THERE  is  probably  no  other  country  where 
the  gulf  between  the  rich  and  poor  is  so 
wide.  Six  thousand  people  own  all  the 
land  in  Mexico,  and  eleven  million  people  have 
to  live  upon  terms  made  directly  or  indirectly 
by  those  six  thousand.  The  same  six  thousand 
are  also  the  governing  class,  and  make  all  laws 
to  favor  their  own  interest.  For  instance,  all 
the  land  of  the  rich  is  exempt  from  taxation, 
and  this  compels  the  poor  laborer  to  pay  the 
tax  for  the  support  of  the  government.  It  is 
hard  for  a man  to  acquire  land  here,  as  the 
holders  will  not  sell,  and  the  laws  against 
foreigners  are  very  strict.  Mexico  has  never  for- 
gotten 1848,  wiien  California,  Arizona  and  New 
Mexico  wTere  seized  by  the  United  States,  and 
she  now  sees  to  it  that  Americans  get  no  more. 
Thus,  no  American,  without  consent  of  the 
president,  can  acquire  land  within  twenty 
leagues  of  the  border.  This  precaution  is  based 
upon  the  experience  of  Texas.  Mexicans  allowed 
the  Americans  to  settle  in  Texas,  and  so  soon  as 
they  felt  strong  enough  they  struck  out  for  in- 
dependence and  got  it.  If  Americans  were 
allowed  to  buy  along  the  Rio  Grande,  it  would 
be  but  a few  years  till  the  Rio  Grande  country 


Dives  and  Lazarus. 


295 


would  declare  independence  and  join  Texas, 
just  as  Texas  joined  the  union. 

The  rich  have  also  made  a law  that  a man 
may  become  a slave  for  debt,  and  the  property 
of  the  creditor.  As  a legal  enactment  the  law 
has  been  repealed,  but  as  a matter  of  fact,  the 
law  is  as  operative  today  as  it  ever  was,  and 
this  class  of  slave  labor  is  known  as  peons. 
The  peon  may  owe  the  creditor  a hundred  dol- 
lars. He  is  paid  such  low  wages  he  never  can- 
cels his  debt,  but  continues  till  it  is  doubled. 
Should  he  become  dissatisfied  with  his  master, 
he  can  get  some  one  else  to  buy  him  by  paying 
the  debt,  and  he  thus  becomes  the  slave  of  the 
second,  but  this  is  always  done  legally.  The 
original  owner  must  write  out  a statement  of 
the  amount  of  debt,  and  allow  the  peon  three 
days  for  each  hundred  dollars  to  seek  a new 
master.  Once  in  debt,  always  in  debt,  so  the 
poor  peon  is  never  free,  and  his  wife  is  included 
in  his  contract,  and  the  haciendas  will  have  no 
other  kind  of  labor.  The  Mexican  by  nature  is 
averse  to  work,  and  whore  land  is  so  fertile  and 
fruit  is  so  plenty,  it  is  hard  to  get  a free  Mexi- 
can to  work,  and  harder  to  hold  him.  The  peon, 
on  the  other  hand,  has  both  a moral  and  legal 
compulsion  to  work,  and  the  fear  of  the  law 
compels  him  to  work  every  day  but  Sundays 
and  feast  days.  So  this  is  the  kind  of  labor  the 
haciendados  seek. 

In  opening  a new  plantation,  instead  of  hir- 
ing men,  the  owner  spends  six  or  eight  thousand 
dollars  in  buying  peons  from  other  farms,  before 
his  new  place  has  earned  him  a dollar.  When 
he  becomes  the  property  of  his  new  master,  a 
contract  must  be  made  as  to  time  and  wages. 


296  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

The  peon  agrees  to  work  on  all  clays  except  feast 
days,  and  to  receive  in  wages  two  dollars  and  a 
half  a month,  plus  a ration  of  corn,  beans  and 
salt,  or  four  dollars  a month  without  rations. 
The  rations  consist  of  six  almuds  (6£  quarts 
each)  of  corn,  half  an  almud  of  frijoles  (beans) 
and  one  pound  of  salt.  If  a peon  refuses  to  pay 
his  debts  in  money  or  work,  the  law  places  him 
in  close  confinement.  Life  on  these  haciendas 
is  peculiar  to  itself.  The  buildings  are  in  the 
form  of  a huge  rectangle  surrounded  by  high 
walls  and  entered  by  massive  gates  which  are 
closed  at  night.  The  walls  are  mounted  by 
towers  and  pierced  by  loop-holes  for  muskets, 
and  generally  surrounded  by  a moat.  All  these 
precautions  have  been  necessary  in  a land  in- 
fested by  bandits  and  subject  to  the  annual 
raids  of  the  revolutionists  who  could  get  horses 
and  supplies  to  furnish  a regiment. 

The  hacienda  of  Jaral  once  controlled  20,000 
peons  and  furnished  a full  regiment  for  the 
Spanish  army  in  the  war  of  independence. 
Within  this  enclosure  on  one  side  is  the  res- 
idence of  the  bosses,  as  the  owners  nearly  all 
live  in  Europe.  On  the  other  sides,  in  adobe 
huts  with  dirt  floors,  live  the  peons  with  their 
families  and  dogs,  while  in  the  center  or  in  a 
separate  enclosure  are  the  animals.  It  reminds 
one  of  the  fedual  days  to  hear  the  signal  bell 
rung  and  see  the  hundreds  of  people  hurrying  to 
the  hacienda  and  closing  the  ponderous  gates  and 
preparing  for  a siege.  Revolutions  and  bandits 
are  not  as  frequent  now  as  formerly,  but  the 
haciendas  have  no  faith  in  Utopia,  so  they  still 
build  in  accordance  with  past  experience.  The 
universal  work  animal  is  the  ox,  and  he  is 


Dives  and  Lazarus. 


297 


worked  just  as  he  was  on  the  Nile  four  thousand 
years  ago.  The  plow  is  a sharp  stick  with  an 
iron  point  that  does  not  turn  the  soil  but  only 
opens  a furrow.  The  beam  is  fastened  to  the 
yoke,  and  the  yoke  is  fastened  to  the  animal’s 
horns  by  means  of  raw-hide  thongs,  the  universal 
hammer  and  nails  of  the  country.  The  people 
mend,  repair  and  make  everything  by  means  of 
raw-hide.  The  plowman  holds  the  single  handle 
with  his  left  hand,  and  in  his  right  he  carries  a 
goad  with  a steel  point  on  the  end  with  which 
he  persuades  his  team.  The  driver  never  speaks 
to  his  team,  but  if  he  wants  the  team  to  go  to 
the  left  he  silently  prods  the  right  hand  ox,  and 
vice  versa.  The  cruel  method  of  fastening  the 
yoke  to  the  horns  compels  the  oxen  to  pull  by 
their  necks  instead  of  by  their  shoulders,  and 
with  a heavy  two-wheeled  cart  loaded  with  a 
ton  of  stone,  their  necks  soon  become  so  stiff 
they  cannot  bend  them,  and  cannot  graze  nor 
drink  water  unless  they  stand  in  it  leg  deep. 

Innovations?  O no,  the  Mexican  wants  no 
innovation.  An  enterprising  Yankee  shipped 
some  plows  down,  and  the  natives  sawed  off  one 
handle  of  every  one.  He  had  always  plowed 
with  one  handle  and  always  will.  In  making 
excavations  for  building,  no  wheel-barrow  is 
seen.  A piece  of  raw-hide  stretched  between 
two  poles  and  carried  by  two  men  is  the  only 
wheel-barrow  they  will  ever  use.  The  only 
ladder  in  the  country  is  an  upright  pole  with 
cross-pieces  tied  on  by  ropes.  To  saw  lumber 
a pit  is  dug  and  the  log  laid  across  the  top,  then 
with  one  man  in  the  pit  and  one  on  the  log,  it  is 
sawed  into  lumber.  For  wagons  they  use  only 
two-wheel  carts,  and  in  loading,  sometimes  three 


298  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

or  four  hundred  pounds  will  overbalance  on  the 
forward  side  and  crush  the  mule  to  the  ground, 
hut  with  whip  and  lash  he  is  made  to  get  up  and 
move. 

I have  seen  these  two-wheel  carts  come  from 
the  mines  loaded  with  over  two  tons  of  silver, 
and  drawn  by  eight  mules,  and  only  one  mule  in 
the  shafts,  and  his  back  would  be  bent  into  the 
segment  of  a circle  and  his  legs  spread  like  a 
cotton  toy. 

To  thresh  their  grain,  it  is  spread  in  the  yard 
and  the  oxen  and  donkeys  are  driven  over  it 
two  or  three  days  to  tramp  it  out,  just  as  they 
did  in  Egypt  in  Pharaoh’s  time.  After  ten 
yoke  of  oxen  had  tramped  over  the  wheat  for 
two  days,  I fear  there  are  fastidious  people  who 
would  refuse  to  eat  it,  but  we  can  get  accus- 
tomed to  many  things  when  we  have  to.  Even 
the  green  scum  on  the  stagnant  wTater  of  the 
canal  makes  a fine  dish  when  you  cannot  do  any 
better. 

There  came  a Yankee  to  this  country  once  who 
saw  a Mexican  threshing  machine,  which  con- 
sisted of  about  thirty  sheep,  goats  and  burros, 
that  were  wading  knee-deep  in  grain  and 
threshing  it  out;  so  when  he  got  home,  he  sent 
that  farmer  a Yankee  threshing  machine  almost 
as  a present,  and  it  was  put  to  work.  The 
grain  was  threshed  clean  and  it  performed  the 
work  of  a dozen  men  and  twice  that  number  of 
animals,  and  seemed  a great  success,  but  it  got 
bruited  to  the  priests.  They  came  and  saw  the 
machine  and  stood  in  amazement.  From  their 
standpoint  it  was  too  great  an  innovation,  and 
what  might  it  not  lead  to  ? They  declared  that 
the  devil  was  in  the  machine,  and  positively 


Dives  and  Lazarus. 


299 


forbade  the  peons  to  use  it ! The  threats  and 
warnings  frightened  the  poor  ignorant  peons  out 
of  their  wits,  and  that  machine  was  sent  back 
across  the  Rio  Grande. 

When  railroads  were  first  introduced,  the 
priests  had  the  tracks  torn  up,  and  for  a long 
time  the  rubber  hose  of  the  air-brake  was  con- 
tinually cut  open,  because  it  was  said  to  be  the 
work  of  the  devil.  Wise  priests  they  are  in 
Mexico.  Well  do  they  know  that  where  intelli- 
gence and  invention  find  their  way  among  those 
Indians,  the  power  of  the  priesthood  is  gone,  so 
it  is  not  a matter  of  ignorance  with  them.  They 
are  well-educated — too  well  to  permit  innova- 
tions that  will  lessen  their  influence  and  shekels. 
I have  met  these  priest  outside  of  their  official 
capacity,  and  found  that  many  of  them  were 
educated  in  Europe  and  America  and  were  well 
posted  in  the  affairs  of  today,  all  of  which 
proves  that  their  teaching  what  they  know  to 
be  false  is  the  most  transparent  humbug. 

The  tools  and  manner  of  working  is  shiftless 
to  the  last  degree.  I have  seen  plantations 
planted  in  corn,  and  it  was  done  by  men  digging 
holes  with  short  handled  grubbing-hoes,  in  which 
to  plant,  and  when  it  was  large  enough  to  culti- 
vate, take  a short  paddle  or  a board,  and  on 
their  knees  rake  the  dirt  to  each  stalk. 

The  corn  has  been  inbred  until  it  is  of  the 
most  stunted  growth,  when  a few  bushels  of 
Texas  corn  would  give  new  life  to  it.  It  is  a 
rare  thing  to  see  a stalk  on  the  plateau  over  five 
feet  high,  while  the  conditions  of  the  soil  ought 
to  produce  a height  of  twelve  feet.  For  irriga- 
tion they  still  use  the  old  well-sweep,  a long  pole 
balanced  in  a fork,  and  as  the  weighted  end 


300  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

goes  down,  the  laden  bucket  rises  at  the  other, 
and  all  day  the  laborer  draws  this  water  to  slake 
his  thirsty  field.  A suction  pump  would  do  the 
work  of  six  men,  but  I have  not  seen  such  an 
innovation  as  a pump  in  all  this  land.  In  mak- 
ing a cart  the  native  will  take  his  ax  and  hew 
him  out  one  complete,  and  there  will  he  no  par- 
ticle of  iron  about  it. 

With  the  woman,  life  is  a continual  tread-mill 
until  she  dies.  From  girlhood  to  old  age  her 
business  is  grinding  corn,  and  it  takes  her  entire 
time.  In  the  entire  country  I have  seen  no 
other  corn  mill.  The  usual  method  is  to  put  the 
corn  to  soak  in  lime  water  to  soften  the  grains, 
and  then  they  are  laid  upon  a stone  a dozen  at  a 
time  and  crushed  by  another  stone  roller  made 
exactly  like  our  kitchen  rolling  pins ; and  when 
it  comes  to  grinding  corn  for  a large  family,  a 
dozen  grains  at  a time,  it  means  a day’s  work. 
In  large  cities  of  over  a hundred  thousand  popu- 
lation, the  public  mill  is  the-same.  I visited  a 
number  where  meal  was  ground  for  sale,  and  on 
the  floor  were  thirty  or  forty  women  down  on 
their  knees  grinding  corn ; the  metata,  or  nether 
stone  is  held  against  the  stomach  like  a wash- 
board, and  the  rolling-pin  stone  is  worked  up 
and  dowrn  to  crush  the  corn,  but  always  she  is 
on  her  knees.  This  constant  labor  gives  the 
peon  woman  a stolid  look  of  resignation  that 
never  departs  from  her  features.  For  use,  the 
grated  meal  is  dampened  and  made  into  thin 
cakes  the  size  and  thickness  of  a saucer,  and 
cooked  by  placing  on  a hot  stone  or  piece  of 
sheet-iron. 

Neither  knives,  forks,  dishes  or  spoons  enter 
into  their  household  equipment.  The  tortilla 


Dives  and  Lazarus. 


301 


is  about  the  color  and  toughness  of  leather,  and 
is  baked  and  stacked  away  for  future  use. 
The  fri joins  are  cooked  in  a small  burnt  clay  ves- 
sel, then  poured  into  or  upon  a frijola,  which  is 
then  rolled  into  a cylinder  and  eaten.  If  by 
good  fortune  they  have  anything  else  to  eat,  the 
tortilla  is  used  ns  a plate  for  this  dainty  and 
then  the  plate  is  eaten.  Their  adobe  houses 
have  dirt  floors  and  no  windows  or  chimneys. 
They  never  use  fire  except  for  cooking  and  that 
is  done  on  the  outside.  Within  are  neither  bed, 
table  nor  chairs.  Sometimes  there  is  a straw 
mat  for  a bed,  and  they  sleep  in  the  clothes  they 
have  worn  all  day,  the  men  rolling  in  their 
zerapes  and  the  women  in  rebosas.  Shame  and 
modesty  in  the  usual  amenities  of  life  are  en- 
tirely absent,  and  no  privacy  whatever  is 
sought  or  needed.  The  men  dress  in  white  cot- 
ton and  wear  sandals  on  their  feet,  and  each 
man  is  his  own  shoemaker.  The  women  wear, 
often,  simply  a coarse  chemise  or  at  most  a 
short  petticoat  reaching  to  the  bare  knees. 
Sometimes  they  wear  coarse  shoes,  but  never 
stockings.  Their  faces  have  a perpetual  look  of 
sadness.  They  are  slaves  for  debt,  and  have 
nothing  else  in  life  to  hope  for.  Marriage  laws 
are  almost  unknown.  They  have  not  the  money 
to  secure  a legal  marriage,  so  the  formality  is 
dispensed  with.  In  some  of  the  largest  cities 
in  the  country  you  may  take  a seat  in  a public 
park,  and  when  no  policeman  is  near  some 
cadaverous  looking  woman  will  approach  lead- 
ing a daughter,  and  will  offer  to  sell  her  for  two 
or  three  dollars — to  such  stress  are  they  driven 
by  their  condition. 

Do  not  think  for  a moment  that  all  this  suffer- 


302  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

ing  and  depravity  will  awaken  sympathy  from 
the  rich.  The  rich  are  Spaniards,  and  being 
such,  have  neither  sympathy  nor  charity  for 
Mexicans  and  Indians.  In  trading  with  these 
poor  people  I have  purposely  paid  thun  more 
than  the  price  asked,  when  some  Spaniard, 
thinking  I had  been  cheated,  would  rush  up 
and  abuse  the  seller  and  attempt  to  restore  my 
money. 

Caste  distinctions  are  drawn  as  tight  as  steel 
wires,  and  a peon  would  no  more  resent  an  in- 
sult from  a Spaniard  than  if  he  were  a superior 
being.  They  are  fatalists,  and  accept  their  lot 
as  their  portion.  Before  the  law  they  are  all 
equal,  but  if  the  aristocracy  should  appropriate 
a particular  park  or  street  or  sidewalk,  the 
rabble  would  cowTer  and  huddle  near  the  edge 
but  would  no  more  trespass  than  if  it  were  an 
enchanted  spot.  The  law~s  are  made  by  the 
aristocracy,  and  in  a lawsuit  for  damages  the 
poor  would  have  no  show  at  all,  and  in  most 
cases  the  leges  non  scripta  are  more  powerful 
than  the  written.  By  common  consent  (of  the 
aristocracy)  the  people  have  divided  themselves 
into  classes  and  they  never  transgress  their 
acknowledged  boundaries.  No  peon  would 
think  of  asking  a well-dressed  gentleman  for  a 
cigarette  light,  and  said  gentleman  would  not 
use  said  peon  for  a door-mat. 

The  most  remarkable  feature  is  the  zeal  with 
which  the  police  enforce  caste  rules.  The  rail- 
roads and  street-cars  are  all  divided  into  classes 
and  the  police  are  always  present  to  see  that  the 
pilagua  or  poor  class  alwrays  go  third-class. 
Even  should  one  have  a first-class  ticket,  the 
policeman  would  promptly  eject  him.  At  the 


Dives  and  Lazarus. 


303 


bull-ring  or  theater  the  police  assort  them  by 
their  clothes,  and  I have  yet  to  hear  of  a pro- 
test by  the  ejected.  In  the  alamedas  and  prom- 
enades, if  the  aristocracy  appropriate  the  inner 
circle  next  the  band  stand,  the  people  imme- 
diately fall  back  to  the  outer  circle,  and  a string 
of  police  will  see  that  they  stay  there.  But  to 
all  Americans,  however  dressed,  barriers  fall 
away  like  cobwebs,  and  with  a tip  of  the  hat 
the  official  bids  you  “ Passe  senor Ordinary 
servants  are  chosen  from  the  great  middle  class, 
and  employers  require  such  exact  obedience 
and  homage  that  no  servant  of  the 
United  States  would  remain  a day.  No 
matter  how  often  a servant  is  called,  she 
must  always  answer  with  some  deprecating 
remark  denoting  her  position,  such  as:  “Yes, 
your  humble  servant,”  or  “At  your  service, 
Senora,”  and  this  formula  must  never  be 
omitted.  In  nine  cases  out  of  ten  no  beds  are 
furnished  servants,  and  I have  seen  men  and 
women  spread  themselves  over  the  bare  floor  night 
after  night  and  sleep  in  the  same  clothing  they 
wore  all  day.  For  this  faithful  service  women 
get  five  dollars  a month,  in  a country  where  the 
cheapest  cotton  cloth  is  thirteen  cents  a yard. 
But  Mexican  servants  are  the  best  in  the  world. 
They  know  nothing  of  the  comforts  of  life  as 
we  know  them,  so  they  do  not  grumble  at  their 
lot.  Obedience  and  hardship  are  their  inheri- 
tance, and  like  the  caged  bird  that  has  never 
known  freedom,  they  never  chafe.  It  is  this 
submission  that  makes  the  priesthood  anxious 
to  keep  American  innovation  out ; but  let  intelli- 
gence be  once  awakened  to  superior  conditions, 


304  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

and  automatic  obedience  to  church  and  master 
will  suffer  a compound  fracture. 

The  life  of  the  great  middle  class  woman  is 
the  happiest  of  the  lot.  Not  being  ground  by 
poverty  nor  bound  by  the  laws  of  aristocratic 
society,  she  enjoys  life.  The  blue  blood  deserves 
our  greatest  sympathy.  She  must  never  appear 
without  duenna  or  escort.  If  she  engage  in 
any  occupation  whereby  she  earns  money  or 
is  drawn  from  her  seclusiveness,  she  immedi- 
ately loses  caste.  An  educated  lady  may  do 
missionary  work  or  perform  in  music  for  some 
funcion  ; very  well,  but  if  it  be  known  that  she 
received  pay  for  so  doing,  it  would  mean  her 
Waterloo.  In  consequence  most  such  places  in 
the  country  are  filled  by  foreigners  who  have 
no  such  restrictions  to  face.  Sometimes  gen- 
tility f razzels  out  to  a very  name  with  no  income, 
and  then  the  poor  lady  is  in  the  strait  whether 
she  shall  go  hungry  or  lose  caste,  so  she  works 
by  stealth.  To  the  public  she  gives  music 
lessons  or  art  lessons  for  the  love  of  it  but  on 
the  quiet  she  collects  tuition,  and  thus  is  able 
to  live  and  still  hold  her  own  with  the  four 
hundred. 

A Mexican  lady  has  her  world  in  two  hemi- 
spheres, the  church  and  the  home.  When  she 
is  not  in  one  she  is  in  the  other.  They  neither 
visit  nor  receive  calls.  A Mexican’s  home  is  for 
himself  and  he  does  not  invite  his  dearest 
friends  to  it.  This  is  not  indicative  of  selfish- 
ness but  the  custom.  If  you  want  to  see  anyone 
you  never  go  to  their  home,  but  to  the  plaza  at 
eight  when  the  band  begins  to  play,  and  see 
your  friends.  That  is  what  the  band  is  for,  to 
play  while  you  visit.  And  so  her  life  is  spent. 


Dives  and  Lazarus. 


305 


In  her  home  all  day  peeping  through  iron  bars, 
and  on  Sunday  going  to  the  hull  fight,  and  three 
evenings  a week  going  to  the  plaza  to  chat. 
Her  home  is  furnished  with  elegance,  hut  she 
has  a peculiar  custom.  If  her  best  room  will 
hold  forty  chairs,  then  forty  will  be  there.  In 
nearly  every  home  I have  seen  the  walls  held 
as  many  chairs  as  would  set  around  the  four 
sides,  but  their  use  was  never  revealed  to  me. 
Great  is  custom. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


POLITICAL  ECONOMY. 

LIFE  is  extremely  hard  in  Mexico.  The 
absence  of  fuel  and  water  places  her  in- 
dustries at  a great  disadvantage,  and  to 
foster  her  crude  industries  she  is  compelled  to 
put  a prohibitory  tariff  on  imports,  which  falls 
heavily  upon  the  consumer.  A reciprocity 
treaty  with  the  United  States  would  solve  the 
problem,  but  who  ever  heard  of  the  American 
Congress  agreeing  upon  subjects  of  great  impor- 
tance. When  I first  went  to  Mexico  each  state 
collected  its  own  custom  duties  independent  of 
the  national  government,  and  custom  officials 
met  the  train  at  every  state  line.  I knew  a lady 
who  moved  from  Kansas  to  Nueva  Leon,  the 
second  state  across  the  border,  and  on  a silver 
water-pitcher  valued  at  $35,  she  paid  ad  valo- 
rem duty  of  $17.15.  The  custom  regulations 
have  changed  now,  and  duty  is  no  longer  col- 
lected by  individual  states,  but  it  is  bad  enough 
as  it  is.  American  ham  in  Mexico  costs  fifty 
cents  a pound,  cheese  seventy-five  cents,  canned 
salmon  one  dollar  a can,  and  mackerel  twenty- 
five  cents  each. 

Through  the  kindness  of  D.  Appleton  & Co., 
I am  permitted  to  use  some  figures  below,  taken 
from  that  very  excellent  work  by  David  A. 
Whiles,  “A  Study  of  Mexico.” 


Political  Economy. 


307 


“In  1885,  an  American  living  in  the  City  of 
Mexico  induced  the  landlady  to  order  an  Ameri- 
can cooking- stove.  In  due  time  the  stove  ar- 
rived, and  this  is  a copy  of  the  bill  presented  and 
paid  upon  delivery : 


ORIGINAL  INVOICE: 


1 stove weight  282  pounds 

1 box  pipe . “ 69  “ 

1 box  stove  furniture “ 86  ** 

Total 437  pounds  or  199.3  kilos. 

Cost  in  St  Louis,  U.  S.  currency $ 26  50 

Exchange  at  20  per  cent 5 30 

Total $ 31  80 

Freight  from  St.  Louis  to  City  of  Mexico  (rail)  at 

$3  15  per  100  pounds $ 15  75 

Mexican  consular  fee  at  El  Paso 4 85 

Stamps  at  El  Paso i 45 


Cartage  and  labor  on  boxes  examined  by  custom- 
house at  El  Paso $ 50 

Forwarding  commission,  El  Paso 2 00 

Exchange  16%  per  cent,  on  $7  64  freight  advanced  by 

Mexican  Central  Railroad 1 25 


$ 52  85 


IMPORT  DUTIES: 


1 box,  128  kilos  (stove)  iron  without  brass  or  copper 

ornaments,  at  19  cents  per  kilo $ 24  42 

1 box,  31.3  kilos,  iron  pipe,  at  24  cents  per  kilo 7 51 

1 box  iron  pots,  with  brass  handles,  at  24  cents  per  kilo  9 48 

$ 41  41 

Add  4 per  cent  as  per  tariff 1 65 

$ 43  06 

Package  duty,  5o  cents  per  100  kilos 1 00 

$ 44  06 

Add  5 per  cent  as  per  tariff 2 20 

Add  2 per  cent,  municipal  duty 

Add  5 per  cent,  consumption  duty 


$ 46  26 
93 


$ 47  19 


308 


Land  Without  Chimneys 


Dispatch  of  goods  at  Buena  Vista  station,  City  of 

Mexico 

Stamps  for  permit 


Cartage  in  City  of  Mexico. 
Total 


RESUME: 


38 

60  50  43 

$107  03 


$107  78 


Original  cost  of  stove  with  exchange $ 31  80 

Freight,  consular  fees  and  forwarding 24  80 

Import  duties 50  43 

Cartage 75 


Total $107  78 


[Note. — This  stove  was  shipped  from  El  Paso  in  a lot  of  goods 

for  Messrs. & Co.,  the  largest  importing  house  in  Mexico, 

thereby  saving  the  expense  of  two-thirds  the  consular  fees— $14- 
56— which,  if  paid  on  the  invoice  alone,  would  have  added  $9  71  to 
charges  and  raised  the  total  to  $117  49.] 


In  1878  Hon.  John  W.  Foster,  then  United 
States  Minister  to  Mexico,  in  a communication 
to  the  Manufacturers’  Association  of  the  North- 
west, (Chicago)  thus  analyzed  the  items  of  cost, 
in  the  City  of  Mexico,  of  a tierce  weighing 
gross  328  pounds,  containing  300  pounds  (net) 
of  sugar  cured  hams  : 


New  York  cost,  300  pounds  at  11  cents $ 33  00 

New  York  expense,  such  as  cartage,  consular  invoice, 

(5 'i  gold),  manifest,  etc.,  average  5 per  cent,  on 

large  shipments 1 65 

Freight  from  New  York  to  Vera  Cruz  at  1 cent  per 

pound,  payable  in  New  York 3 25 


$ 37  90 

Exchange  on  New  York,  $37  90  at  18  per  cent $ 6 82 

Import  duties  in  Vera  Cruz,  138  kilos  at  24  cents  per 

kilo 33  12 

Municipal  duties  in  Vera  Cruz,  $1  03  for  every  400 

pounds 84 

Lighterage  and  handling  from  steamer  to  warehouse 

(ifl  to  $1  50  per  every  200  pounds) 1 63 

Maritime  brokerage,  2 per  cent  on  freight  (83  25) 07 

Opening  and  closing  barrel 50 

Additional  charges  in  Vera  Cruz  for  stamps  and 

cartage  to  railroad  station 1 50 

Commission  in  Vera  Cruz,  2 per  cent,  on  *70  66 1 41 

Exchange  on  Vera  Cruz,  1 per  cent,  on  839  06 39 

Railroad  freight  from  Vera  Cruz  to  City  of  Mexico, 

140  kilos  at  $54  32  per  ton 7 60 

Local  duties  in  City  of  Mexico,  2 percent,  on  Federal 

duty,  $33  12 66 

Local  expense  in  City  of  Mexico,  cartage  in  depot, 

expense  in  custom  house,  etc 75 

Total $ 93  19 


Political  Economy. 


309 


Therefore,  $1  in  hams  in  New  York  was  worth 
$2.82  in  Mexico,  or  31  cents  per  pound!  A simi- 
lar analysis  showed  that  an  invoice  of  ten  kegs 
of  cut  nails,  which  cost  in  New  York  $22.50, 
when  imported  into  the  City  of  Mexico  cost 
$141.64,  or  $1  value  in  nails  in  New  York  was 
equal  to  $6.29  in  Mexico,  and  salt  that  cost  $2 
a barrel  in  New  York,  cost  $20.40  in  Mexico. 
These  are  simply  specimens  of  tariff  duty,  but 
the  internal  revenue  system  is  no  less  remark- 
able. 

Every  inhabitant  of  the  republic  who  sells 
goods  to  the  value  of  $20  must  give  the  buyer  an 
invoice  of  same,  and  affix  and  cancel  a stamp 
of  corresponding  value.  Retail  sales  are  ex- 
empt from  this  law  so  long  as  they  are  less  than 
$20.  Retail  sellers  in  the  market,  or  others  whose 
capital  does  not  exceed  $300,  are  exempt. 
Tickets  of  all  descriptions,  railroad,  theatre, 
etc.,  must  have  a stamp,  also  each  page  of  the 
report  of  meetings;  each  leaf  of  a merchant’s 
ledger,  cash  or  day  book,  and  every  cigar  sold 
separately  must  be  delivered  to  the  buyer  in  a 
stamped  wrapper.  Sales  of  spirits  pay  3 per 
cent;  gross  receipts  of  railroads  (city)  4 per 
cent;  public  amusements,  2 per  cent  of  entrance 
fees;  playing  cards  50  per  cent,  and  mercantile 
drafts  pay  a dollar  on  the  hundred.  Each  beef 
animal  on  leaving  a town  pays  50  cents;  each 
fat  pig,  25  cents;  each  sheep,  12  cents;  and 
everything  else  you  can  mention. 

A miller  in  Mexico  has  to  pay  thirty- 
two  separate  taxes  on  his  wheat,  from  the  time 
it  leaves  his  field  till  he  can  offer  it  to  his  cus- 
tomers as  flour.  The  country  swarms  with 
officials  who  collect  taxes  from  every  conceiva- 


310  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

ble  source,  fandangos,  christenings,  marriages, 
funerals,  buryings,  etc.,  while  you  live,  and 
then  collect  taxes  on  your  grave  after  you  are 
dead.  It  is  very  much  like  a case  I knew  in 
Texas  when  a man  was  sentenced  to  prison  for 
life,  and  the  judge  found  that  he  had  overlooked 
one  indictment,  so  he  promptly  added  ten  years. 
I am  puzzled  to  know  if  this  taxation  gave  rise 
to  the  belief  in  the  transmigration  of  souls,  or 
whether  the  belief  in  transmigration  gave  the 
cue  to  the  officials  to  collect  from  the  shades. 
Perhaps  this  delinquent  tax  is  charged  to  the 
estate  of  Purgatory  et  al.  Every  man  between 
the  ages  of  18  and  66  is  taxed  for  the  privilege 
of  living,  and  the  only  way  to  escape  this  tax  is 
to  live  in  Yera  Cruz  and  die  young.  Poor  old 
Mexico. 

I might  devote  ten  pages  to  this  subject,  but 
what  is  the  use?  A country  with  such  a pro- 
hibitive tariff  shuts  out  her  only  source  of 
revenue  on  imports,  and  exports  nothing  of 
importance  but  money,  so  how  can  she  survive 
except  by  robbing  the  people?  The  country  is 
very  poor,  the  State  of  South  Carolina  produc- 
ing two  and  a half  times  as  much  as  the  entire 
northern  half  of  Mexico,  and  if  you  compare  them 
by  proportionate  areas,  twenty-five  times  as 
much.  The  interminable  system  of  taxation  is 
the  most  despicable  system  on  American  soil. 

I have  at  last  discovered  why  so  many  beggars 
go  naked  in  Mexico.  They  go  naked  and  beg 
in  order  to  escape  the  tax  gatherer,  since  a man 
is  taxed  on  clothes  and  material  and  upon  all 
incomes  greater  than  $150.  History  tells  of  a 
certain  people  that  brought  on  a revolution  and 
a republic,  just  on  account  of  such  harmless 


Political  Economy. 


311 


pastime  as  licking  stamps.  The  time  will  come 
in  Mexico  when  the  people  will  lick  just  one 
stamp  too  many,  then  they  will  rise  in  their 
might  and  stamp  the  industry  in  the  ground. 
(Joke  not  intended). 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


PREHISTORIC  RUINS. 

“ Thou  unrelenting  Past! 

Strong  are  the  barriers  round  thy  dark 
domain— 

And  fetters  strong  and  fast, 

Hold  all  within  thy  unbreathing  reign. 

u Far  in  thy  realm  withdrawn, 

Old  empires  sit  in  sullenness  and  gloom ; 
And  glorious  ages  gone, 

Lie  deep  within  the  shadow  of  thy  womb. 

“ Full  many  a mighty  name 

Lurks  in  thy  depths,  unuttered,  unre- 
vealed ; 

With  thee  are  silent  fame, 

Forgotten  arts,  and  wisdom  disappeared.” 

WHAT  strange  people  first  entered  this 
land  ? Who  built  these  stupendous 
monuments  ? Whence  did  they  come 
and  whither  did  they  go  ? And  what  characters 
are  these  engraved  on  walls  which  no  man  can 
read  ? And  what  catastrophe  removed  from  the 
continent  every  single  inhabitant  of  a gifted 
race  ? And  why  do  we  strive  so  hard  to  lift  the 
veil  which  for  so  long  has  guarded  these  strange 
portals  ? 

Every  man  who  has  looked  upon  these  speech- 
less but  eloquent  landmarks  of  these  vanished 

312 


Prehistoric  Puins. 


313 


races  feels  a burning  desire  to  know  more  of 
them.  To  the  curious  and  inquisitive,  Mexico 
offers  an  endless  field,  and  a few  of  these  most 
noted  ruins  will  be  mentioned  here. 

The  pyramid  of  Cholula,  covering  forty-four 
acres  of  ground,  has  already  been  mentioned. 
On  Lake  Texcoco  stood  the  ancient  city  of 
Texcoco,  and  here  have  been  found  the  foun- 
dations of  three  great  pyramids,  built  of  adobe 
and  burnt  brick.  Sculptured  blocks  with  finely 
chiseled  bas  reliefs  have  also  been  found.  Three 
miles  from  Texcoco  is  a group  of  ruins  called 
the  Hill  of  Tezcocingo.  The  hill  is  very  regular 
in  outline  and  rises  to  the  height  of  six  hundred 
feet.  The  most  noted  part  of  this  hill  is  the 
aqueduct  which  supplied  it  with  water.  The 
embankment  which  leads  the  aqueduct  from  the 
mountain  is  from  sixty  to  two  hundred  feet  high. 
The  canals  which  brought  the  water  are  cemented 
with  mortar  mixed  with  pounded  brick.  Thirty 
miles  from  the  capital  are  the  ruins  of  Teoti- 
liuacan,  “The  City  of  the  Gods.”  Here  are 
two  immense  pyramids  dedicated  to  the  Sun  and 
Moon.  The  one  to  the  Sun  is  seven  hundred 
and  sixty  feet  square  and  two  hundred  and 
sixteen  feet  high,  with  three  terraces,  the  one 
to  the  Moon  is  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high. 
Between  them  is  a paved  road  one  hundred  and 
thirty  feet  wide.  There  are  a number  of  smaller 
pyramids  dedicated  to  the  stars  and  the  whole 
valley  for  six  miles  is  strewn  with  relics. 

On  the  Mexican  Central  Railroad,  sixty  miles 
from  the  city,  is  the  town  of  Tula,  or  Tollan  as 
it  was  called  by  the  Toltecs.  This  was  their 
ancient  capital  and  is  covered  with  ruins.  There 
are  two  pyramids,  probably  dedicated  to  the 


314 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


Sun  and  Moon.  One  is  one  hundred  and  ninety 
six  feet  square  and  forty-six  feet  high,  and  the 
other  one  hundred  and  thirty  one  feet  square 
and  thirty-one  feet  high,  and  both  rest  upon 
raised  foundations.  The  hillside  for  a mile  has 
evidences  of  buildings  made  from  adobe,  brick 
and  cut  stone.  At  Queretaro,  it  was  found  that 
all  the  projecting  points  were  made  strong  by 
ditches,  walls  and  embankments.  Bancroft  in 
his  “ Native  Races  ” saj^s  that  at  Canoas  there 
is  a fortified  hill  with  forty-five  defensive  works, 
including  a wall  forty  feet  high,  and  a rectangu- 
lar platform  with  an  area  of  five  thousand  square 
feet. 

At  Quemada  in  the  state  of  Zacatecas  is  said 
to  be  a hill  whose  every  approach  is  guarded  by 
walls  of  stone,  with  paved  roads  for  many  miles 
surrounding  it.  On  top  of  the  hill  was  a cita- 
del, guarded  by  a wail  twenty  feet  high  and 
nine  feet  thick.  To  the  south  of  Cholula  are 
the  ruins  of  Xochicalco,  the  “Hill  of  Flowers,” 
said  to  be  the  finest  ruins  in  Mexico.  The  hill 
is  a natural  one  rising  nearly  four  hundred  feet 
and  having  a circumference  of  nearly  three 
miles.  The  hill  was  surrounded  by  a wide  ditch 
and  terraced  to  the  top.  Five  of  these  terraces 
wind  around  the  hill,  and  are  paved  with  stone 
laid  in  mortar,  and  supported  by  perpendicular 
walls  of  stone.  The  top  of  the  hill  was  leveled 
to  an  area  of  two  hundred  and  eighty-five  by 
three  hundred  and  twenty- eight  feet,  upon  which 
was  a pyramid  five  stories  high.  The  neighbor- 
ing farmers  have  been  using  it  as  a stone-quarry, 
but  there  yet  remain  some  fine  specimens  of 
chiseled  bas-relief.  These  huge  masses  of  por- 
phyry were  cut  by  people  unacquainted  with  the 


Prehistoric  Ruins. 


315 


use  of  iron,  and  as  one  sculptured  block  is  eight 
feet  long  and  three  feet  broad,  and  was  carried 
nearly  four  hundred  feet  up  the  mound,  we  can 
appreciate  the  labor  involved.  There  is  no  stone 
in  this  neighborhood,  and  yet  the  whole  of  this 
hill,  three  miles  in  circumference,  is  cased  in 
stone.  What  a warlike  neighborhood  this  must 
have  been  to  require  such  fortification  ! 

At  Monte  Alban  is  another  group  of  a similar 
kind.  At  the  summit  of  the  hill  is  a platform 
half  a mile  wide,  literally  covered  with  sculp- 
tured stone.  Mr.  Bandelier  considers  this  the 
most  precious  remains  of  aboriginal  work  on 
the  continent.  In  the  state  of  Oaxaca  are  the 
celebrated  ruins  of  Mitla,  built  by  a different 
people  from  the  others.  Besides  the  two  mounds, 
Mr.  Bandelier  found  the  remains  of  thirty-nine 
buildings,  most  of  which  were  built  of  stone. 
Huge  blocks  of  stone  were  used  and  covered 
with  a facing  in  which  were  traced  peculiar 
geometrical  designs.  The  columns  are  huge 
stone  pillars  without  chapter  or  base.  Mitla  is 
an  isolated  spot  with  the  pall  of  the  tomb  around 
it,  except  for  the  Zapotec  Indians  who  live  near. 
At  Guingola  in  the  same  state  is  a fortified  hill 
and  a ruined  settlement.  In  the  state  of  Vera 
Cruz  on  the  Panuco  river  Mr.  Norman  found 
twenty  mounds  and  the  ruins  of  a great  city 
now  covered  by  a forest.  Cortez  found  this 
place  inhabited  by  Totonac  Indians  whose  tra- 
ditions knew  nothing  of  the  ruins.  The  largest 
mound  covers  two  acres,  and  was  faced  with 
stone  18  inches  square.  From  the  sculptures 
and  inscriptions  it  was  probably  the  work  of  the 
Mayas. 

The  Smithsonian  Report  of  1873,  page  373, 


316 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


says  : “There  is  hardly  a foot  of  ground  in  the 
state  of  Vera  Cruz,  in  which,  by  excavation, 
either  a broken  obsidian  knife  or  a piece  of  pot- 
tery is  not  found.”  The  Mayas  here  probably 
made  their  last  stand  against  the  invading 
Nahuas,  who  also  had  to  retreat  before  the  ad- 
vancing Totonacs.  The  ruins  around  Orizaba 
and  Jalapa  belong  to  this  class.  At  Papantla 
is  a pyramid  ninety  feet  square  and  seven  stories 
high,  built  solid,  with  a stairway  leading  to  the 
top.  Also  at  Tuscapam  is  another  pyramid  and 
the  remains  of  many  other  buildings.  When 
the  country  is  fully  explored,  there  will  probably 
be  as  many  more  found  as  are  already  known . 

One  of  the  latest  discoveries  happened  while 
I was  in  Mexico  in  1896,  and  was  by  a Cuban, 
Mr.  G.  M.  Moliner,  who  lives  in  the  city  of 
Mexico.  He  spent  four  years  in  Egypt,  and 
for  ten  years  has  studied  archaeology  in  Amer- 
ica. He  has  a sword  which  he  found  in  Mex- 
ico and  which  he  claims  is  coeval  with  the  time 
of  the  Phoenicians.  It  is  of  copper  and  weighed 
eight  pounds  when  discovered,  and  the  scab- 
bard four.  The  characters  on  one  side  he  de- 
scribes as  Persian,  and  on  the  other  as  Phoenicia  n . 
The  inscription  “Tai  Abracadabra”  was  pointed 
out  to  a representative  of  the  Mexican  Herald, 
and  the  symbols  of  the  gnostic  beasts,  the  man, 
the  eagle  and  the  dragon,  and  the  blade  repre- 
sents the  bull’s  tongue.  He  has  also  discovered 
a curio  of  copper,  representing  episodes  in  the 
history  of  the  mound-builders  as  he  claims, 
showing  the  city  of  the  sun,  figures  of  warriors, 
the  conquering  race  armed  with  swords  and  oval 
shields,  and  bearing  the  insignia  of  the  wolf’s 
head,  while  the  conquered  race  is  armed  with 


Prehistoric  Ruins. 


817 


battle  axes  and  fire  poles,  and  have  the  insignia 
of  a bird’s  claw.  When  he  discovered  this 
piece  of  copper,  he  also  discovered  what  he  calls 
the  missing  link  between  the  past  and  present. 
It  is  a piece  of  jet  black  marble  about  ten  inches 
square  and  polished  as  smooth  as  glass. 

Mr.  Moliner  claims  that  this  stone  contains  an 
epitome  of  the  prehistoric  race  and  the  link 
that  connects  them  to  Asia.  This  missing  link 
is  the  imprint  of  the  head  of  Hermes,  found  in 
one  corner  of  the  lustrous  black  marble.  This 
design  is  about  two  inches  square,  and  though 
the  marble  is  half  an  inch  thick,  the  impression 
is  on  both  sides.  He  claims  that  the  design  was 
painted  and  imbedded  by  discoloring  acids.  He 
has  had  the  stone  photographed  and  the  study 
of  the  photograph  is  most  interesting.  The 
room  must  be  darkened  and  only  a little  light 
must  reach  it.  He  explained  that  the  ancient 
priests  did  this  painting  in  the  dark,  through 
green  obsidian  glasses,  and  it  must  be  viewed 
under  similar  conditions.  Looking  at  the  phot- 
ograph in  full  light,  it  presented  an  enlarged 
representation  of  the  alleged  head  of  Hermes  as 
found  on  the  marble.  When  the  room  was 
darkened  and  the  full  glare  of  the  light  shone 
on  it  through  green  glasses,  the  photograph  had 
the  appearance  of  burnished  silver.  By  shifting 
the  photograph,  caves  and  rocks  would  appear, 
and  by  another  shifting  appeared  the  outlines 
of  a building  with  towers  and  turrets  on  the 
crest  of  a rock,  showing  a building  of  archaic 
architecture  such  as  is  seen  in  ancient  biblical 
illustrations.  Mr.  Moliner  declares  this  to  be 
the  ancient  Chapultepec.  By  another  shifting 
of  the  light,  the  head  of  Hermes  appeared  with 


318  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

five  component  parts,  to  wit:  the  sacred  Ma}^a 
stone,  the  sacrificial  knife,  the  imperial  diadem, 
and  the  mask  and  artificial  snout  found  in  Mex- 
ico by  the  conquerors,  the  last  three  being  in 
use  by  the  Aztecs  from  time  immemorial.  From 
the  upper  part  of  this  head  of  Hermes  rose  a 
trinity  of  faces,  more  or  less  distinct,  one  look- 
ing straight  ahead,  and  the  other  two  right  and 
left. 

One  of  the  oldest  of  religious  trinities  is  that 
of  Hermes,  and  Mr.  Moliner  claims  that  his  dis- 
covery is  similar  to  the  symbol  in  the  Louvre  in 
Paris.  The  head  of  Hermes  as  found  in  the 
Louvre  is  on  white  marble,  a slab  eight  feet  high, 
and  underneath  it  the  inscription  “Hermes  from 
the  Pelagic  Times.” 

The  foregoing  descriptions  have  been  of  ruins 
of  the  Nahuatl  tribes;  we  will  now  turn  to  those 
of  the  Mayas  where 

“Antiquity  appears  to  have  begun 

Long  after  their  primeval  race  was  run.” 

The  city  of  Copan,  in  Honduras  near  the  Guat- 
emala line,  claims  to  be  the  oldest  city  in  Amer- 
ica. What  must  be  the  feelings  of  the  traveler 
as  he  gropes  through  a tropical  forest  and  comes 
face  to  face  with  this  huge  structure?  First 
there  is  a terrace  eight  hundred  and  nine  feet 
one  way  and  six  hundred  and  twenty-four  feet 
the  other  way,  seventy-six  feet  high  and  con- 
taining twenty-six  million  cubic  feet  of  stone, 
brought  from  a quarry  two  miles  away.  On  the 
terrace  were  four  pyramids,  the  largest  rising 
one  hundred  and  seventy-two  feet,  and  sur- 
mounted by  two  huge  trees  rooted  in  its  mold. 
Within  these  ruins  were  found  fourteen  statues, 


Prehistoric  Ruins. 


319 


the  largest  thirteen  feet  four  inches  tall,  and  all 
covered  with  has  reliefs  and  hieroglyphics 
whose  workmanship  was  equal  to  that  on  the 
Egyptian  pyramids.  In  front  of  the  statues 
stand  huge  altars  six  feet  square,  divided  into 
thirty-six  tablets  of  hieroglyphics  which  tell  to 
the  world  their  history,  hut  they  speak  in  an 
unknown  tongue,  and  we  do  not  know  whether 
these  are  the  emblems  of  a Mayan  pantheon  or 
the  relics  from  the  palace  of  pre-Adamic  man. 
Everywhere  is  a dark  mystery  which  has  b vf- 
fled  the  scholars  of  the  world  for  these  three 
hundred  years.  The  curtain  falls,  the  traveler 
returns,  and  the  aeons  begin  again  their  cj^cles 
around  mysterious  Copan. 

North  of  Copan  is  the  hamlet  of  Quiriga,  with 
ruins  similar  to  those  of  Copan,  made  of  cut 
sandstone.  Mr.  Catherton  found  eight  standing 
statues,  one  fallen,  and  the  fragments  of  thirteen 
more.  The  hieroglyphics  are  similar  to  those 
of  Copan,  but  the  statues  are  two  or  three  times 
as  tall.  No  people  have  ever  been  found  with 
any  tradition  whatever  concerning  these  mys- 
terious ruins.  Throughout  Yucatan  and  Guate- 
mala are  ruins  and  inscriptions,  but  the  people 
and  their  traditions  have  been  swallowed  up  by 
obli^on.  Northward  out  of  Guatemala  in  the 
state  of  Chiapas  in  Mexico  is  Palenque,  the 
sphinx  and  Mecca  of  Central  America.  This  is 
a fertile,  productive  country,  "which  was  deserted 
and  covered  with  ruins  when  Cortez  landed. 
This  old  deserted  city  covers  more  than  a mile. 
The  pyramid,  according  to  Mr.  Stephens’  meas- 
urement at  the  base  was  310  by  260  feet,  and 
was  cased  in  stone,  now  thrown  down  by 
the  growth  of  trees.  In  one  room  of  the'  temple 


320  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

was  found  a stone  tablet  four  feet  long  and  three 
feet  broad,  and  sculptured  in  bas  relief.  It  is 
set  in  the  wall  and  around  it  is  a stucco  border, 
but  its  significance  is  unknown.  The  principal 
figure  is  carved  with  a necklace  of  pearls  around 
the  neck,  and  suspended  from  the  pearls  is  a 
medallion  containing  a face.  Rising  from  the 
center  of  the  ruins  is  a tower  thirty  feet  square 
with  a staircase.  Southwest  of  the  palace  is  the 
pyramid  called  the  “ Temple  of  Inscriptions,” 
whose  elope  was  110  feet  of  solid  masonry. 
Each  of  the  corner  pieces  contained  on  its  sur- 
face hieroglyphics,  each  of  which  contained  9G 
squares. 

In  Uxmal  are  ruins  that  rival  Palenque  and 
are  the  most  interesting  of  any  in  Yucatan. 
There  are  so  many,  we  will  mention  only  one, 
and  give  the  dimensions  on  the  authority  of 
Bancroft.  The  pyramid  is  350  feet  square  at 
the  base  and  surmounts  a quadrangle  of  build- 
ings. The  building  on  the  south  is  279  feet 
long,  28  feet  wide  and  18  feet  high.  The  one 
on  the  north  is  264  feet  long,  28  feet  wide  and 
25  feet  high.  The  eastern  one  is  158  feet  long, 
35  feet  wide  and  22  feet  high  and  the  western 
one  3 73  feet  long,  35  feet  wide  and  20  feet  high. 
These  buildings  contained  76  rooms  all  facing 
an  open  court  214  by  258  feet.  The  walls  are 
massive,  of  solid  rock  and  9 feet  thick,  and  the 
floors  were  cemented.  The  most  attractive  part 
of  the  whole  building  is  the  beautiful  facades 
which  cover  24,000  feet  of  surface  and  are  pro- 
nounced the  finest  of  native  American  art.  The 
major  trend  of  the  facade  is  diamond  lattice 
work,  with  the  turtle,  serpent  and  elephant’s 
trunk  alternating.  The  terrace  which  supported 


Prehistoric  Ruins. 


321 


this  building  contained  60,000  cubic  yards  of 
material.  The  walls  were  of  massive  masonry, 
and  the  sculpture  is  truly  artistic,  and  yet  these 
people  knew  not  the  use  of  metallic  tools. 

Here  was  enacted  the  greatest  tragedy  that 
history  has  ever  recorded.  At  these  altars 
unnumbered  priests  waved  their  censers  in  the 
worship  of  Quetzacoatl,  the  nature  god  of  the 
Mayas,  and  now  their  cities  are  overgrown  by  a 
tropical  forest  and  are  lost  to  the  world,  which 
knows  neither  their  name  nor  location,  and  it 
was  by  the  merest  accident  that  we  know  of 
their  very  existence.  Nepenthe  rules  here 
supreme.  A tropical  forest  has  overgrown  their 
pyramids  and  trees  nine  feet  in  diameter  now 
close  the  entrance  to  their  temples,  and  nine  feet 
of  vegetable  mold  now  cover  the  altars  where 
sacerdotal  processions  performed  their  mysteri- 
ous rites  probably  while  Cheops  was  building. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


AZTEC  COSMOGONY  AND  THEOGONY. 

“ By  midnight  moons  o’er  moistening  dews, 
In  vestments  for  the  chase  arrayed, 

The  hunter  still  the  deer  pursues, 

The  hunter  and  the  deer  a shade.” 


Philip  Freneau, 


ROM  the  foregoing  chapter  we  see  that 


the  ancient  Aztec  civilization  had  noth- 


-A-  ing  in  common  with  the  red  Indian. 
Buildings,  customs  and  religion  linked  him  to  a 
higher  civilization,  or  else  prove  tl^at  he  pos- 
sessed the  germs  of  self-evolution,  enabled  him  to 
cope  with  the  great  unknown,  and  single-handed 
to  civilize  himself.  The  latter  process  will  be 
hard  to  believe,  the  former  will  be  hard  to  prove; 
but  for  argument  we  will  take  a hasty  glance  at 
other  nations  whose  history  corresponds  most 
closely  with  the  ancient  inhabitants  of  Mexico. 

The  Chaldeans,  according  to  Berosus,  held 
that  the  world  is  periodically  destroyed  by 
deluges  and  conflagrations.  They  believed  that 
the  deluges  were  caused  by  the  conjunction  of 
the  planets  in  Capricorn,  and  the  conflagrations 
by  conjunction  in  Cancer.  The  Chaldean  phi- 
losophers had  also  their  Annus  Magnus  or  great 
year,  at  the  end  of  which  the  present  terrestrial 
and  cosmical  order  would  terminate  by  fire  and 
afterwards  be  renewed. 


Aztec  Cosmogony  and  Theogony. 


323 


The  ancient  Scythian*  believed  that  the  world 
undergoes  revolution  both  by  fire  and  by  water. 
The  Egyptians  believed  that  the  earth  would 
flourish  through  the  interval  expressed  by  the 
Annas  Magnus  or  great  year,  a cjmle,  as  with 
the  Chaldeans,  composed  of  revolutions  of  the 
sun  and  moon,  and  terminating  when  they  re- 
turned together  to  the  same  sign  whence  they 
set  out.  At  the  end  of  each  cycle  the  earth 
was  supposed  to  be  destroyed  by  fire  or  water, 
and  to  be  renovated  for  the  abode  of  man.  The 
Hindoo  cosmogony  taught  the  doctrine  of  secular 
catastrophes  and  renovations.  Water  is  then 
introduced,  over  which  moves  Brahma,  the 
creator.  Brahma  then  causes  dry  land  to  appear 
and  vivifies  the  earth  in  succession  with  plants, 
animals  and  man,  then  he  sfeeps  4320  millions  of 
years — a day  for  Brahma,  and  then  the  earth  is 
destroyed  by  fire.  The  fire  is  finally  quenched 
by  rain  which  falls  a hundred  years  and  inun- 
dates heaven  and  earth.  The  breath  of  Vishnu 
next  becomes  a strong  wind  by  which  the  clouds 
are  dispersed,  and  Deity  in  the  form  of  Brahma 
awakes  from  his  serpent  couch  on  the  deep  and 
renews  the  world,  and  sleeps  again  another  day. 
The  power  of  Brahma  is  thus  outlined  by  Em- 
erson : 

“ If  the  red  slayer  thinks  he  slays. 

Or  if  the  slain  thinks  he  is  slain, 

They  know  not  well  the  subtle  ways 
I keep,  and  pass,  and  turn  again. 

“ Far  or  forgot,  to  me  is  near, 

Shadow  and  sunshine  are  the  same ; 

The  vanished  gods  to  me  appear, 

And  one  to  me  are  shame  and  fame. 


324 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


“ They  reckon  ill  who  leave  me  out. 

When  me  they  fly  I am  the  wings; 

I am  the  doubter  and  the  doubt, 

And  I the  hymn  the  Brahman  sings. 

41  The  strong  god  pines  for  my  abode, 

And  pine  in  vain  the  sacred  seven; 

But  thou,  meek  lover  of  the  good, 

Find  me  and  turn  thy  back  on  heaven.” 

The  Jews  also  hold  a prophecy  that  the  world 
was  to  endure  2000  years  before  the  flood,  2000 
under  the  law  and  2000  under  the  Messi»h,  and 
then  to  be  destroyed  by  water,  and  a large  part 
of  the  Christian  world  accepts  the  same  today. 

Orpheus  and  Menander,  early  Greek  poets  who 
lived  in  the  twilight  of  Greek  civilization,  repro- 
duce the  myth  of  the  Annus  Magnus , and  teach 
that  the  earth  is  to  be  destroyed  at  the  completion 
of  the  cycle.  In  the  Sybilline  books,  1300  years 
before  our  era,  this  faith  is  shadowed  and  the 
world  is  destined  to  endure  ten  ages,  the  first  of 
which  is  the  Golden  Age.  After  a renovation 
by  fire  the  Golden  Age  will  return,  when,  ac- 
cording to  Virgil,  the  serpent  will  perish;  the 
earth  will  produce  her  crops  spontaneously;  the 
kid  will  no  longer  fear  the  lion;  the  grape  will 
be  borne  upon  the  thorn-bush,  and  scarlet  and 
yellow  and  royal  purple  will  become  the  native 
colors  of  the  woolly  fleece : 

“ Ipsx  lacte  domain  referent  distenta  capellx 

Ubera\  nee  magnos  netuent  arrnenta  leones. 

Ipsatibi  blandos  f undent  cunabula  fores; 

Occidet  et  serpens , et  fallax  herba  veiieni 

Occidet ; Assyrinm  vulgo  nascetur  amoinum. 


Aztec  Cosmogony  and  Theogony.  325 

Molli  paulatim  Jlavescet  campus  arista , 

Inc ulUsque  rubens  pendebit  sentibus  uva , 

Et  durai  quercus  sudabunt  roscida  mella.','> 

According  to  Winchell,  the  Stoics  got  the 
same  doctrine  from  the  Phoenicians,  and  in 
speaking  of  the  restoration  after  the  conflagra- 
tion, use  the  same  term  we  find  in  the  Scriptures, 
though  written  many  hundred  years  earlier. 
Chrysippus  calls  it  “ Apocatastasis  -restitu- 
tion— as  St.  Peter  does  in  the  Acts.  Marcus 
Antoninus  several  times  calls  it  “ Palingenesia  ” 
— regeneration — as  our  Savior  does  in  Matthew, 
and  Paul  in  his  epistle  to  Titus.  The  Pythago- 
reans, who  taught  the  transmigration  of  souls, 
had  the  same  ideas  regarding  the  revolutions  as 
had  the  Stoics.  Plato  taught  the  same,  and 
Aristotle  alone  of  all  the  ancient  philosopers, 
taught  the  immortality  of  the  soul  and  a contin- 
uance of  the  present  order  of  things. 

Among  the  Arabians,  the  story  of  the  Phcenix 
is  an  allegory  of  the  earth.  This  bird  of  fable 
no  sooner  crumbles  to  ashes  than  she  rinses  again 
in  more  than  pristine  beauty.  They  have  a 
similar  story  of  the  eagle  which  goes  to  the  sun 
to  renew  its  strength,  and  David  alludes  to  the 
myth  in  the  Psalms  where  he  says:  “Thy 

youth  is  renewed  like  the  eagle’s,” — a passage 
which  in  the  Chaldee  language  reads:  “Thou 
shalt  renew  thy  youth  like  the  eagle  in  the 
world  to  come.”  The  Persians  represent  their 
god,  Fire,  as  the  final  avenger  of  the  earth.  The 
Aztecs,  according  to  Humboldt,  felt  the  curios- 
ity common  to  man  in  every  stage  of  civilization, 
to  lift  the  veil  which  covers  the  mysterious  past 
and  the  awful  future.  They  sought  relief  like 


326  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

the  nations  of  the  old  world,  from  the  oppressive 
idea  of  eternity,  by  breaking  it  up  into  distinct 
periods  or  cycles  of  time,  each  of  several  thous- 
and years.  There  were  four  of  these  cycles, 
and  at  the  end  of  each,  by  the  agency  of  one  of 
the  elements,  the  human  family  was  swept  from 
the  earth,  and  the  sun  blotted  from  the  heavens, 
to  be  rekindled  again  by  sacred  fire. 

The  great  feast  of  the  “renewal  of  fire”  began 
on  the  last  day  of  the  Sothic  period  of  fifty-two 
years,  when  the  last  fragment  of  time  lost  by 
leap  year  had  been  made  up.  In  the  evening 
the  fire  was  extinguished  throughout  the  valley, 
and  all  the  earthen  vessels  were  broken  in  prep- 
aration for  the  end  of  the  world.  At  this  time 
every  one  was  in  terrible  suspense,  fearing  he 
had  seen  the  sun  for  the  last  time.  The  whole 
empire  was  a prey  to  anxiety,  and  the  people 
stood  on  the  temples  watching  the  mountain 
tops,  where  bonfires  would  be  lighted  if  the 
gods  showed  themselves  merciful.  Then  pro- 
cessions of  priests  marched  to  the  mountain  so  as 
to  arrive  at  midnight,  when  they  solemnly 
awaited  the  turn  of  the  night  which  would  as- 
sure them  that  the  sun  would  rise  once  more  and 
continue  fifty-two  years  to  the  end  of  the  next 
cycle.  When  the  critical  hour  had  passed,  a 
priest  with  two  sticks  and  a rotary  motion  of 
the  hands  produced  the  sacred  fire.  Then  a 
funeral  pyre  was  raised  and  the  victims  sacri- 
ficed. Then  an  extraordinary  activity  fol- 
lowed the  despondency,  and  every  one  lighted 
his  torch  from  the  funeral  pile  and  hastened  to 
his  dwelling,  and  couriers  with  the  sacred  fire 
spread  through  all  the  empire  and  the  new  blaze 
was  kindled  in  every  hearth  and  on  every  temple 


Aztec  Cosmogony  and  Theogony.  327 

top,  and  they  were  happy  for  they  had  fifty-two 
years  more  to  live.  The  thirteen  days  comple- 
mentary to  the  cycle — intended  to  make  the  solar 
and  civil  years  agree — were  spent  in  whitewash- 
ing and  renewing  their  furniture  for  the  new 
cycle. 

The  Aztecs  believed  in  the  periodical  de- 
struction of  the  world  and  had  a tradition  of  the 
flood,  and  their  idea  of  the  re-peopling  of  the 
earth  very  nearly  coincides  with  Jewish  script- 
ures. The  following  is  a translation  of  the 
Popol  Vuh,  or  National  Book  of  the  Quiches  of 
Guatemala;  “There  was  not  yet  a single  man; 
not  an  animal ; neither  birds,  nor  fishes,  nor 
crabs,  nor  wood,  nor  stones,  nor  ravines,  nor 
forests;  only  the  sky  existed.  The  face  of  the 
land  was  not  seen;  there  was  only  the  silent  sea 
and  the  sky.  There  was  not  yet  a body,  naught 
to  attach  itself  to  another;  naught  that  bal- 
anced itself ; naught  that  made  a sound  in  the 
sky.  There  was  nothing  that  stood  upright; 
naught  there  was  but  the  peaceful  sea — the  sea, 
silent  and  solitary  in  its  limits;  for  there  was 
nothing  that  was.  * * * Those  who  fecun- 

dated, those  who  give  life,  are  upon  the  waters 
like  a growing  light.  * * * While  they  con- 

sulted, the  day  broke,  and  at  the  moment  of 
dawn,  man  appeared.  While  the}?-  consulted, 
the  earth  grew.  Thus  verily,  took  place  the 
creation  as  the  earth  came  into  being.  ‘Earth’ 
said  they;  and  the  earth  existed.  Like  a fog, 
like  a cloud,  was  the  formation;  as  huge  fishes 
rise  in  the  water,  so  rose  the  mountains ; and  in 
a moment  the  high  mountains  existed.” 

This  is  the  account  of  the  first  creation,  and 
what  follows,  refers  to  the  fourth  and  last  crea- 


328  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

tion. — “Hear,  now,  when  it  was  first  thought  of 
man,  and  of  what  man  should  he  formed.  At 
that  time  spake  he  who  gives  life,  and  he  who 
gives  form,  the  Maker  and  Moulder,  named 
Tepen,  Gucumatz ; ‘The  day  draws  near;  the 
work  is  done;  the  supporter,  the  servant  is  en- 
nobled; he  is  the  sun  of  light,  the  child  of  white- 
ness; man  is  honored;  the  race  of  man  is  upon 
the  earth.’  So  they  spake.”  * * * Immedi- 

ately they  began  to  speak  of  making  our  first 
mother  and  our  father.  Only  of  yellow  corn 
and  white  corn  were  they  flesh,  and  the  sub- 
stance of  the  arms  and  legs  of  man.  They  were 
called  simply  beings , formed  and  fashioned ; 
they  had  neither  mother  nor  father;  we  call 
them  simply  men. 

Woman  did  not  bring  them  forth,  nor  were 
they  born  of  the  Builder  and  Moulder,  by  Him 
who  fecundates,  and  Him  who  gives  being. 
“Thought  was  in  them;  they  saw;  they  looked 
around;  their  vision  took  in  all  things;  they  per- 
ceived the  world ; they  cast  their  eye  from  the 
sky  to  the  earth.”  “Then  they  were  asked  by 
the  Builder  and  Moulder  ‘What  think  you  of 
your  being?  See  ye  not?  Understand  ye  not? 
Your  language,  your  limbs,  are  they  not  good? 
Look  around,  beneath  the  heavens ; see  ye  not 
the  mountains  and  the  plains?’ 

“ Then  they  looked  and  saw  all  there  was  be- 
neath the  heavens.  And  they  gave  thanks  to 
the  Maker  and  the  Moulder,  saying ; ‘ Truly, 
twice,  and  three  times  thanks!  We  have  being; 
we  have  been  given  a mouth,  a face;  we  speak, 
we  understand,  we  think,  we  walk,  we  feel,  and 
we  know  that  which  is  far  and  that  which  is 
near.  All  great  things  and  small  on  the  earth 


Aztec  Cosmogony  and  Theogony.  329 

and  in  the  sky  do  we  see.  Thanks  to  thee,  O 
Maker,  O Moulder,  that  we  have  been  created, 
that  we  have  our  being,  0 our  Grandmother,  0 
our  Grandfather!’  ”* 

Is  there  anything  more  noble  in  any  language 
than  these  sentiments  of  untutored  beings, 
striving  to  lift  the  veil  and  peer  into  the  beyond  ? 
No  philosopher  in  any  land  ever  gave  tongue  to 
more  lofty  sentiments,  nor  approached  nearer 
the  real  truth  of  divination,  and  we  must  re- 
member, these  sentiments  were  not  borrowed 
from  the  Spaniards,  but  were  recorded  in  the 
native  writing  of  Guatemala,  ages  before  the 
coming  of  Los  Conquestadors.  The  Aztec  wor- 
shipped many  gods,  but  he  also  believed  in  one 
Great  God,  the  “Causer  of  Causes.”  To  him 
was  never  an  image  made.  He  was  reverenced 
under  the  name  of  Teotl,  but  being  invisible 
and  infinite,  they  never  attempted  to  make  a 
likeness  of  him,  either  in  idols  or  in  painting. 
They  made  sacrifice  of  human  beings,  but  not 
to  Teotl. 

I herewith  present  a prayer,  translated  from 
the  Aztec  language  by  Lucien  Biart,  and  ad- 
dressed to  the  Unseen  God Mighty  God, 
thou  who  givest  me  life,  and  whose  slave  I am, 
grant  me  the  supreme  grace  of  giving  me  meat 
and  drink;  grant  me  the  enjoyment  of  thy 
clemency,  that  it  may  support  me  in  my  labors 
and  in  my  wants.  Have  pity  on  me  who  live 
sad,  poor  and  abandoned,  and  since  I serve  thee 


*Histoire  des  nations  civilises  du  Mexique  et  de  l’Amerique 
centrale,durant  leg  siecles  antericurs  a Christophe  Colomb,  ecrite 
gura  des  documents  originaux  et  entierement  mediis,  purises  aux 
ancienaes  archives  des  indigenes,  par  M.  l’Abbe  Brasseuer  de 
Bourbourg,  4 forts,  vol.  in-3  raisin  avec  carte  et  figures. 


330 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


by  sweeping  thy  temple,  open  to  me  the  hand 
of  thy  mercy.” 

What  this  lacks  of  being  the  Lord’s  Prayer, 
is  hardly  worth  mentioning. 

All  the  other  ancient  nations  we  have  men- 
tioned, had  intercourse  with  one  another.  The 
Greeks  studied  in  Egypt,  and  had  dealings  with 
the  Phoenicians.  The  Jews  were  taken  captives 
to  the  east  and  the  Hindoos  spread  to  the  west, 
so  it  is  not  strange  that  they  should  all  have  an 
almost  identical  cosmogony,  but  here  is  a people 
separated  by  an  ocean,  having  the  same  belief, 
a knowledge  of  the  art  of  building,  of  sculpture 
and  of  writing.  Then  how  shall  we  account  for 
all  this  unless  we  suppose  that  they  had  known 
contact  with  each  other  in  some  past  age  ? Alfred 
Wallace,  the  great  English  scientist,  says  that 
none  but  the  unscientific  ever  resurrect  the 
Atlantis  theory,  but  with  the  risk  of  being  de- 
clared unscientific,  I wish  to  present  some  facts 
of  scientific  value,  and  leave  the  verdict  with 
the  reader. 


CHAPTER  XXI Y. 


THE  LOST  ATLANTIS. 

“Man’s  steps  are  not  upon  thy  paths;  thy  fields 
Are  not  a spoil  for  him ; thou  dost  arise 
And  shake  him  from  thee;  the  vile  strength  he 
wields 

For  earth’s  destruction,  thou  dost  all  despise, 
Spurning  him  from  thy  bosom  to  the  skies, 

And  send  him,  shivering  in  thy  playful  spray, 

And  howling  to  his  gods,  where  haply  lies 
His  petty  hope  in  some  near  port  or  bay, 

And  dash  him  again  to  earth— there  let  him  lie.” 

THE  Story  of  Atlantis,”  recorded  by  Plato 
in  his  Timaeus,  as  communicated  to  Solon 
by  the  Egyptian  priests,  has,  in  the  light 
of  modern  geography,  been  generally  regarded 
as  a myth,  but  within  a few  years  has  been  re- 
vived, and  there  are  not  wanting  investigators 
of  profound  learning  who  regard  it  as  authentic. 
The  following  is  the  translation  from  the  Greek 
of  Plato  : “ Among  the  great  deeds  of  Athens, 

of  which  the  recollection  is  preserved  in  oup 
books,  there  is  one  which  should  be  placed 
above  all  others.  Our  books  tell  that  the  Athen- 
ians destroyed  an  army  which  came  across  the 
Atlantic  Sea,  and  insolently  invaded  Europe 
and  Asia ; for  this  sea  was  then  navigable,  and 
beyond  the  strait  where  you  place  the  Pillars  of 
Hercules,  there  was  an  island  larger  than  Asia 


332  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

(Minor)  and  Lybya  combined.  From  this  island 
one  could  pass  easily  to  other  islands,  and  from 
these  to  the  continent  which  lies  around  the 
Interior  Sea. 

“The  sea  on  this  side  the  strait  (Gibraltar)  of 
which  we  speak,  resembles  an  harbor  with  a 
narrow  entrance;  but  there  is  a genuine  sea,  and 
the  land  which  surrounds  it  is  a veritable  conti- 
nent. In  the  Island  of  Atlantis  lived  three 
kings  with  great  and  marvelous  power.  They 
had  under  their  dominion  the  whole  of  Atlantis, 
several  other  islands  and  some  parts  of  the  conti- 
nent. 

“At  one  time  their  power  extended  into 
Lybya,  and  into  Europe  as  far  as  Tyrrhenia 
(Italy),  and  uniting  their  whole  force,  they 
sought  to  destroy  our  whole  country  at  a blow; 
but  their  defeat  stopped  the  invasion  and  gave 
entire  independence  to  all  the  countries  this  side 
the  Pillars  of  Hercules.  Afterwards,  in  one 
day  and  one  fatal  night,  there  came  earthquakes 
and  inundations  which  engulfed  the  warlike 
people. 

“Atlantis  disappeared  beneath  the  sea,  and 
then  that  sea  became  inaccessible  so  that  naviga- 
tion on  it  ceased  on  account  of  the  quantity  of 
mud  the  engulfed  island  left  in  its  place.” 

Plutarch,  in  his  life  of  Solon,  relates  that 
when  the  law-giver  was  in  Egypt  ‘ ‘ he  conferred 
with  the  priests  and  learned  the  story  of  Atlan- 
tis.” 

Diodorus  Siculus  states  that : “ Over  against 

Africa  lies  a very  great  island,  in  the  vast  ocean 
many  days’  sail  from  Lybya  westward.  The  soil 
there  is  very  fruitful,  a great  part  whereof  is 
mountainous,  but  much  likewise  champaign, 


The  Lost  Atlantis. 


338 


which  is  the  most  sweet  and  pleasant  part,  for 
it  is  watered  by  several  navigable  streams,  and 
beautiful  with  many  gardens  of  pleasure,  planted 
by  divers  sorts  of  trees  and  an  abundance  of 
orchards.  The  towns  are  adorned  with  stately 
buildings  and  banqueting  houses,  pleasantly 
situated  in  the  gardens  and  orchards.” 

Theopompus  who  wrote  in  the  fourth  century 
B.  C.  tells  substantially  the  same  story,  which 
was  given  by  Silenus  to  the  ancient  King  Midas, 
recorded  by  Aristotle.*  The  Gauls  possessed 
traditions  on  the  subject,  which  were  collected 
by  the  Roman  historian  Timagenes,  who  lived 
in  the  first  century,  B.  C.  This  record  states 
that  three  distinct  people  dwelt  in  Gaul 
(France).  1,  The  Aborigines;  2,  The  invaders 
from  a distant  island,  (Atlantis);  3,  The  Aryan 
Gauls.  Marcellus  also,  in  a book  on  the  Ethio- 
pians speaks  of  several  islands  lying  on  the 
Atlantic  .ocean  near  Europe,  which  we  may 
undoubtedly  identity  as  the  Canaries  ; but  he 
adds:  “The  inhabitants  of  these  islands  pre- 
serve the  memory  of  a much  greater  island, 
Atlantis,  which  had  for  a long  time  exercised 
dominion  over  the  smaller  ones.” 

Now,  all  these  writers  most  positively  state 
that  an  island  did  exist  west  of  Africa,  and 
was  destroyed  by  a cataclysm.  This  island  could 
not  have  been  very  far  from  the  shores  of  Amer- 
ica, for  the  tribes  of  Central  America,  in  Mexico, 
in  Venezuela  and  in  British  and  Dutch  Guiana, 
distinctly  describe  these  cataclysms,  one  by 
water,  one  by  fire  and  a third  by  winds. 

Catlin,  in  his  “ Lifted  and  Subsided  Rocks  in 
America,”  describes  the  traditions  of  such  a 


* Aristotle  Consvlatio  ad  Appollonium  § 27,  P.  137. 


334 


Land  Without  Chwnneys. 


cataclysm.  The  Abbe  Brasseur  de  Bourbourg, 
in  his  “ Quatre  Lettres  sur  La  Mexique,”  and  his 
“Sources  de  l’Histoire  Primitive  du  Mexique,” 
has  translated  the  “ Teo  Amoxtli,”  which  is  the 
Toltecan  mythological  history  of  the  cataclysm 
of  the  Antilles.  Catlin  found  the  tradition  of 
such  a cataclysm  among  the  Indians  of  North 
America.  The  Indians  farther  south  state  that 
the  water  was  seen  coming  in  waves  like  moun- 
tains from  the  east,  and  of  the  tens  of  thousands 
who  ran  for  the  high  ground  of  the  west,  only 
one  man,  by  one  authority,  and  two  by  another, 
and  seven  by  another,  succeeded  in  reaching  high 
ground,  and  from  them  sprang  the  present  race 
of  Indians.  The  tribes  near  the  coast  distinctly 
describe  three  cataclysms,  water,  fire,  and  winds, 
while  those  inland  were  sensible  only  of  the  flood 
of  waters  which  ran  to  the  base  of  the  moun- 
tains. * * 

“From  amidst  the  thqnder  and  flames  which 
came  out  of  the  sea,  whilst  mountains  were  sink- 
ing and  rising,  the  terror-stricken  inhabitants 
sought  every  expedient  of  safety.  Some  fled  to 
the  mountains,  and  some  launched  their  rafts  and 
canoes  upon  the  turbulent  waters,  trusting  that  a 
favorable  current  might  land  them  upon  a hos- 
pitable shore,  and  thus  in  the  elemental  strife 
the  ancient  civilized  people  became  widely 
dispersed.”  * 

“The  festival  of  Tzcalli’  was  instituted  to 
commemorate  this  terrible  calamity,  in  which 
princes  and  people  humbled  themselves  before 
the  Divinity  and  besought  Him  not  to  renew  the 
frightful  convulsions.” 

* Catlin  P.  145. 

* Foster,  Prehistoric  Races  of  the  U.  S. 


The  Lost  Atlantis. 


335 


It  is  claimed  that  by  this  catastrophe,  an  area 
larger  than  the  Kingdom  of  France  became  en- 
gulfed, including  the  Lesser  Antilles,  the  exten- 
sive banks  at  their  eastern  base,  which  at  that 
date  were  vast  fertile  plains,  the  peninsula  of 
Yucatan,  Honduras  and  Guatemala  and  the  great 
estuaries  of  the  Caribbean  Sea  and  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico.  With  the  peninsula  of  Yucatan  went 
down  the  splendid  cities  of  Palenque,  whose  sites 
are  now  in  the  ocean  bed  as  well  as  the  bones  of 
the  inhabitants,  and  the  continent  has  since  risen 
sufficiently  to  restore  the  sites  of  a number  of  the 
ancient  cities,  but  the  people  were  blotted  from 
the  face  of  the  earth.  There  is  nothing  more  re- 
markable than  the  truthfulness  of  the  traditions 
of  North  American  Indians.  For- hundreds  of 
years  tradition  has  said  that  the  Enchanted  Mesa 
in  New  Mexico  had  been  once  inhabited,  and 
during  the  present  year,  an  expedition  from  the 
Smithsonian  Institution  explored  the  Mesa  and 
verified  the  tradition. 

In  proof  of  the  Cataclysm  and  submergence 
of  Central  America,  our  modern  geographies  tell 
us  that  Old  Guatemala  was  destroyed  by  a water 
volcano  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and  again  in 
the  eighteenth  by  an  earthquake.  The  sea 
shells  on  both  sides  the  Isthmus  of  Panama  are 
alike,  and  according  to  the  law  of  the  geographi- 
cal distribution  of  animals,  this  could  only  have 
come  about  by  the  Isthmus  having  at  one  time 
been  submerged,  and  remaining  so  long  enough 
for  the  intermingling  of  species  and  being  raised 
again,  and  the  fossils  on  both  sides  support  the 
hypothesis.  The  situation  of  Atlantis,  west  of 
Africa  in  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  would  be  so  near  to 
Central  America  that  any  disturbance,  like  the 


336  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

one  described  by  Plato,  would  be  compelled  to 
affect  Central  America  in  the  manner  described 
by  the  traditions  of  the  natives. 

The  nearest  lands  west  of  Africa,  where  Plato 
locates  Atlantis,  are  the  Canar}^  Islands,  the 
nearest  being  fifty  miles  from  Africa,  and  the 
w'hole  group  extending  three  hundred  miles,  and 
are  separated  from  the  mainland  by  a channel 
more  than  five  thousand  feet  deep.  Of  all  the 
oceanic  islands  (not  continental)  discovered  by 
Europeans,  the  Canaries  alone  were  inhabited . 
Here  they  found  the  Guanches,  now  extinct, 
who  at  the  time  of  their  discovery  were  not 
aware  that  a continent  existed  in  their  neighbor- 
hood, for,  on  being  asked  by  the  missionaries 
how  they  came  to  this  archipelago,  they  ans- 
wered: “God  placed  us  on  these  islands,  and 
then  forsook  and  forgot  us.” 

Now  who  were  the  Guanches?  Their  islands 
had  never  been  connected  with  Africa,  because 
the  channel  between  them  is  a mile  deep,  and 
Wallace  in  his  “Island  Life”  has  proved  that 
any  island  surrounded  by  water  more  than  five 
thousand  feet  deep  is  of  volcanic  origin.  If 
craniometry  is  a reliable  science  the  Guanches 
were  not  savages,  but  superior  to  the  Egyptians. 
According  to  Prof.  Flower’s  measurements,  the 
skull  of  the  English  of  low  grade  contains  one 
thousand  five  hundred  and  forty-two  cubic  centi- 
meters, the  Guanches  one  thousand  four  hundred 
and  ninety-eight,  Japanese  one  thousand  four 
hundred  and  eighty-six,  Chinese  one  thousand 
four  hundred  and  twenty-four,  Italians  one 
thousand  four  hundred  and  seventy-five,  and  the 
ancient  Egyptians  one  thousand  four  hundred 
and  sixty-four.  That  the  remnant  of  a race 


The  Lost  Atlantis. 


837 


found  in  mid-ocean  should  have  a better  devel- 
oped brain  than  many  continental  nations,  is  sig- 
nificant, and  if  the  Guanches  were  a part  of  the 
inhabitants  of  Atlantis,  we  can  easily  understand 
their  ability  to  make  war  and  subdue  their  neigh- 
bors as  related  by  Plato. 

The  late  Sir  Anders  Retzius,  of  Stockholm, 
the  learned  authority  on  craniometry  says  : “The 
Dolichocephali  of  America  are  nearly  related  to 
the  Guanches  of  the  Canary  Islands,  and  to  the 
Atlantic  population  of  Africa, — Moors,  Turar- 
icks,  Copts,  etc. — and  the  same  kind  of  skull  is 
found  in  the  Canary  Islands  in  front  of  the  Afri- 
can Coast,  and  on  the  Islands  in  the  Caribbean 
Sea  on  the  opposite  coast  which  faces  Africa. 
The  color  of  the  skin  in  the  population  on  both 
sides  of  the  Atlantic  is  reddish  brown,  resembling 
tanned  leather ; the  hair  is  the  same  ; the  features 
of  the  face  and  the  build  of  the  frame  as  lam  led 
to  believe,  presenting  the  same  analogy.”* 

And  now  as  to  their  dispersion.  When  Col- 
umbus set  sail  from  Palos  in  1492,  he  steered 
direct  for  the  Canary  Islands  for  repairs,  and 
when  he  left  the  Canaries,  without  any  effort  of 
his  own,  the  trade  winds  carried  his  vessels 
straight  to  the  West  Indies,  and  these  winds 
blow  in  this  direction  all  the  time.  In  December 
1731  a ship  started  from  Teneriffe  with  a cargo 
of  wine  for  one  of  the  western  Canaries,  and 
having  only  six  men  on  board  the  ship  became 
unmanageable,  and  the  trade  winds  carried  them 
straight  to  Trinidad  on  the  Island  of  Cuba. 
While  Atlantis  was  sinking,  some  of  the  inhabi- 
tants likely  escaped  on  rafts  and  boats,  and  be- 


* Present  State  of  Ethnology  in  Relation  to  the  Form  of  the  skull. 
Smithsonian  Report  1860  P.  264  et  stq. 


338 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


ing  exactly  in  the  location  whence  Columbus  and 
the  Teneriffe  ship  were,  they  had  nothing  to  do 
but  to  wait,  and  the  trade  winds  would  take 
them  to  the  West  Indies  and  Yucatan  and  Cen- 
tral America.  We  can  now  easily  see  why  the 
oldest  civilization  of  America  is  in  Central 
America.  Some  of  the  immigrants  stopped  in  the 
West  Indies,  for  the  aborigines  Columbus  found 
there  spoke  the  same  language  as  the  Mayas  and 
Caribs  of  Yucatan  speak  today.  Some  stopped 
in  South  America,  for  Dr.  Lund,  the  Swedish 
naturalist,  found  in  the  bone  caves  of  Minas 
Geraes,  Brazil,  human  skulls  identical  with  those 
of  Mexico.  This  may  possibly  account  for  the 
superior  civilization  of  Peru,  where  the  ingrafted 
population  would  amalgamate  with  the  native 
races  and  produce  those  wonderful  paved  roads 
the  Spaniards  found  there. 

Of  course  there  will  be  objections  to  this  hypo- 
thesis, and  we  will  now  proceed  to  answer  the 
objections. 

Dr.  Waitz,  in  his  “Anthropology  of  Primitive 
Peoples”  says  : “The  first  elements  of  civilization 
as  far  as  history  reaches,  always  appear  as  com- 
municated from  one  people  to  another,  and  of  no 
people  can  it  be  proved  how,  where  and  when 
they  have  become  civilized  by  their  own  in- 
herent power.” 

If  this  be  true,  then  the  ancient  Mexican  must 
have  learned  civilization  from  some  other  people, 
and  we  know  the  red  Indian  had  none  to  spare. 
Winchell  in  his  genealogical  charts,  represents 
the  entire  peopling  of  the  Pacific  Slope  from 
Alaska  to  Chili  by  Mongoloid  branches.  The 
world  knows  that  Mongolian  civilization  has 
always  been  fossilized  and  the  race  is  absolutely 


The  Lost  Atlantis, 


839 


devoid  of  civilizing  qualities.  Their  state  is 
founded  upon  the  worship  of  their  ancestors, 
and  their  exalted  egotism  has  for  ages  resisted 
every  attempt  to  force  advancement  among 
them.  To  say  that  the  Mongols  crossed  Behring 
Strait  and  gave  origin  to  the  Esquimaux  is  en- 
tirely compatible,  for  the  Esquimaux  are  just 
about  the  calibre  a Chinese  colony  of  that  date 
would  produce.  To  say  that  Mongols  are  the 
source  of  Aztec  civilization  and  Inca  sun-wor- 
ship is  to  propound  an  anthropological  paradox. 
From  Alaska  to  the  ancient  confines  of  Mexico, 
there  is  not  one  stone  left  to  acknowledge  the 
hundreds  of  years  of  Esquimo  and  Indian  occu- 
pancy, so  we  cannot  expect  light  from  that 
source. 

Separated  from  Africa  by  a channel  only  fifty 
miles  wide,  we  may  with  justice  assume  that 
the  civilization  of  the  continent  of  Atlantis  and 
that  of  Egypt  was  very  similar.  Egypt  is  the 
only  land  of  the  ancient  world  where  pyramids 
are  found,  and  on  a direct  line  with  the  trade 
winds  we  find  pyramids  in  Yucatan,  Guatemala, 
Honduras  and  Mexico.  In  Egypt  we  find  the 
temples  emblazoned  with  hieroglyphics  chiseled 
in  the  solid  rock,  describing  one  of  the  oldest 
civilizations  in  the  world.  In  Uxmal,  Mexico, 
Palenque  and  Copan  are  tablets,  friezes,  bas-re- 
liefs, facades  and  hieroglyphics,  though  inferior 
to  the  Egyptian  in  mimetic  art,  still  of  the 
highest  order,  considering  this  to  be  the  product 
of  the  neolithic  age,  and  the  length  of  time  since 
the  separation  from  the  home  roof-tree.  The 
Egyptians  were  the  only  ones  of  the  ancient’peo- 
ple  who  embalmed  their  dead.  According  to 
the  French  Historian,  Lucien  Biart,  the  Zapo- 


340  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

tecs  and  Chicimecs  of  the  Mexican  Valley 
embalmed  their  chiefs,  and  if  we  may  believe 
this  same  author,  the  caves  of  the  Cordilleras  are 
vast  museums  as  full  of  interest  as  the  cata- 
combs of  Rome.  That  the  Americans  mummi- 
fied their  dead  is  proved  by  mummies  having 
been  found  in  Peru  and  in  the  northwestern  part 
of  Patagonia.  Dr.  Aq.  Ried,  the  discoverer,  has 
deposited  one  in  the  museum  of  Ratisbon,  Bava- 
ria, and  another  was  sent  to  the  Smithsonian 
Institution.* 

This  mummy  led  to  the  remark  of  Professor 
Alexander  Winchell  in  his  “ Pre- Adamites.” 
“ The  humid  atmosphere,  unlike  that  of  Peru, 
leads  to  the  inference  that  the  mummification 
of  the  dead  was  practiced  under  some  controlling 
motive  wThich  must  have  been  inherited  from 
ancestors  dwelling  in  a more  propitious  clime, 
and  which  even  the  dripping  meteorology  of 
Patagonia  was  insufficient  to  eradicate.” 

The  Egyptians  were  accurate  astrologers  and 
astronomers.  They  accurately  calculated  the 
eclipses  and  the  reappearance  of  stars  whose 
journey  would  require  over  a thousand  years, 
and  the  pyramids  are  set  to  the  cardinal  points 
in  Egypt  and  in  Mexico.  In  the  City  of  Mex- 
ico is  the  great  calendar  stone  of  solid  porphyry 
weighing  fifty  tons.  It  was  brought  many 
leagues  across  a broken  country,  without  beasts 
of  burden,  and  Bustamente  states  that  a thous- 
and men  were  employed  in  its  transportation. 
From  it  we  learn  that  the  Aztecs  or  Toltecs 
were  astronomers  and  astrologers  and  calculated 
eclipses  and  knew  the  solstices  of  the  sun.  They 
divided  the  year  into  eighteen  months  of  twenty 

* Yid.  Aq.  Ried,  Smithsonian  Annual  Report,  1862,  pp.  87, 426. 


The  Lost  Atlantis. 


841 


days  each,  and,  like  the  Egyptians,  had  five 
complementary  days  to  make  out  the  three 
hundred  and  sixty-five,  and  every  fifty-two 
years  they  added  thirteen  (twelve  and  a half) 
days  for  a leap  year  to  make  the  solar  and  civil 
years  agree.  Like  the  Persians  and  Egyptians, 
a cycle  of  fifty-two  years  or  “An  Age,”  was 
represented  by  a serpent,  so  prominent  in  myth- 
ology. Their  astrological  year  was  divided  into 
months  of  thirteen  days  each,  and  there  were 
thirteen  years  in  their  indications,  which  con- 
tained each,  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  periods 
of  thirteen  days. 

It  is  also  worthy  of  note  that  their  number  of 
lunar  months  of  thirteen  days  was  contained  in 
a cycle  of  fifty-two  years,  with  the  intercalation  of 
thirteen  days  (twelve  and  a half,)  should  corres- 
pond exactly  with  the  number  of  years  in  a great 
Sothic  Period  of  the  Egyptians,  viz.  1461.  Is 
it  reasonable  to  suppose  that  this  strange  affinity 
with  Egyptian  civilization  was  accidental,  or 
that  a Turanian  people  independently  evolved 
itself  into  a counterpart  of  Hamitic  Berbers  ? 
The  stone  is  not  modern;  it  is  not  written  in 
Aztec  characters  but  in  Toltec,  a people  whom 
the  Aztecs  supplanted,  and  they  claimed  that 
the  knowledge  was  not  original  with  them,  but 
acquired  from  the  Mayas  who  had  preceded 
them  in  Yucatan.  The  ideographic  paintings 
of  the  Aztecs  preserve  traditions  of  the  creation 
of  the  world,  a universal  flood,  the  confusion  of 
tongues  and  the  dispersion  of  man ; and  that  a 
single  man  and  woman  saved  themselves  in  a 
boat  which  landed  at  Mount  Colhuacan,  and 
that  all  their  children  were  born  deaf  and  re- 
mained so  until  a dove,  one  day,  from  the  top 


342 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


of  a tree,  taught  them  each  in  a different  tongue. 

All  Aztec  traditions,  without  exception,  insist 
that  they  came  from  a far-off  island  called 
“Azatlan”  (probably  Atlantis.)  Dr.  Lapham, 
in  his  “Antiquities  of  Wisconsin,”  claims  that 
the  Aztecs  were  identical  with  the  Mound- 
builders,  and  locates  Azatlan  in  Wisconsin,  on 
account  of  the  large  number  of  effigy  mounds 
there;  and  Dr.  Foster  in  his  “Prehistoric  Races” 
pictures  these  mounds  called  Azatlan;  but  the 
Aztec  painting  published  by  Gemelle  Carera  in 
his  Giro  del  Mondo , has  hieroglyphics  repre- 
senting their  departure  from  Azatlan  in  canoes 
and  on  rafts,  after  their  confusion  of  tongues, 
and  a teocalli , or  temple  by  the  side  of  a palm 
tree,  of  which  neither  condition  can  be  true  of 
Wisconsin. 

Max  Muller,  the  greatest  authority  on  philol- 
ogy, says  that  of  all  indices  to  the  mysteries  of  the 
ancient  world,  language  is  the  most  satisfactory, 
and  the  only  evidence  worth  listening  to  with 
regard  to  ante-historic  periods.  If  we  class  the 
languages  of  the  world  into  groups  according  to 
cognation,  we  find  the  Aryan  languages  com- 
prising the  Indian,  Persian  (Sanskrit),  Hellenic, 
Latin  group  (Italian,  Wallacian,  Provencal, 
French,  Portugese  and  Spanish),  Slavonic  (Rus- 
sian), Teutonic  (English),  and  the  Keltic  or 
Welsh,  of  which  the  oldest  is  the  Sanskrit  and 
Zend.  The  Semitic  group  comprises  the  He- 
brew, Phoenician,  Assyrian  and  Arabic,  while 
the  Babylonian  and  Chinese  stand  alone.  The 
Aryan  and  Semitic  form  a class  known  as  the 
inflectional , and  are  the  only  languages  of  the 
world  that  are  adapted  to  and  possess  a litera- 
ture, and  that  have  advanced  the  progress 


The  Lost  Atlantis. 


343 


of  the  world  in  religion,  arts  or  sciences. 
Though  springing  from  a common  center,  they 
have  grammatical  structures  that  prevent  the 
one  being  derived  from  the  other.  The  Semitic 
branched  southward  and  westward,  and  was  the 
language  of  the  Chaldee,  Arab,  Hebrew  and 
Egyptian,  the  latter  sometimes  classed  as  Hami- 
tic.  The  Chinese  is  an  organic  language, 
monosyllabic,  and  destitute  of  all  grammar. 
The  nouns  have  no  number,  declension  or  cases, 
and  the  verbs  are  without  conjugation  through 
moods,  tenses  and  persons.  All  Mongoloid  that 
reached  America  must  have  done  so  by  Behring 
Strait,  and  all  such  races,  or  descendants  of 
such  races,  would  undoubtedly  have  kept  a trace 
of  their  parental  language.  If  the  Aztecs  were 
derived  from  Mongoloids,  we  should  expect  a 
monosyllabic  language,  hut  on  the  contrary,  the 
Aztec  language  has  more  diminutives  and  aug- 
mentatives  than  the  Italian,  and  its  substantives 
and  verbs  are  more  numerous  than  in  any  other 
language. 

Another  proof  of  its  wealth  is,  that  when  mis- 
sionaries first  went  among  them,  they  found  no 
trouble  in  expressing  abstract  ideas  like  religion, 
virtue,  etc.  The  consonants  most  used  are  1,  t, 
x,  z ; next  the  sound  of  tl  and  tz.  L is  of  most 
frequent  occurrence,  hut  is  never  found  at  the 
beginning  of  a word.  The  Aztec  language, 
sweet  and  harmonious  to  the  ear,  has  no  sharp  or 
nasal  sounds;  the  penultimate  of  most  of  its 
words  is  long.  The  language  is  rich,  exact  and 
expressive,  as  is  proven  in  the  “Natural  His- 
tory” by  Dr.  Hernandez,  who  describes  twelve 
hundred  plants,  two  hundred  birds,  many  quad- 
rupeds, reptiles,  insects,  metals,  etc.,  and  was 


344  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

able  to  call  each  by  a separate  name,  given  by 
the  Indians.  Poets  and  orators  there  were  by 
the  hundred,  and  their  written  inaugurals  make 
as  interesting  reading  as  we  hear  from  many  of 
our  legislators,  many  of  which  were  translated 
by  the  French  scholar,  Lucien  Biart,  who  died 
since  these  pages  were  begun. 

If  Max  Muller  is  correct,  then  there  can  be  no 
kinship  between  the  Mongols  and  Aztecs,  and  if 
they  ever  had  communication  with  other  people, 
it  must  have  been  from  the  east.  The  Sanskrit 
word  for  God,  is  Devan ; the  Latin,  Deus ; the 
Greek,  Oeoo\  and  the  Aztec,  Teotl.  This  simi- 
larity of  sound  and  spelling  might  be  purely  ac- 
cidental, and  on  the  other  hand,  it  might  have 
something  of  a long  kinship  to  identify  it.  The 
Pythagorean  doctrine  of  transmigration  of  souls 
was  a ruling  passion  with  the  Aztec.  This  may 
have  been  the  fruition  of  all  polytheistic  relig- 
ions, or  it  might  have  been  the  retention  of  pri- 
mordial culture,  for  we  know  the  Egyptian 
embalmed  his  dead,  lest  the  dissolution  of  the 
body  would  destroy  the  soul  also. 

The  greatest  desecration  that  could  befall  the 
ancient  Greeks  and  Romans  was  the  refusal  of 
burial,  because  the  soul  of  him  thus  uncared 
for  wandered  thenceforth  as  a disembodied 
ghost. 

We  read  in  Homer’s  Iliad  how  the  deadPatro- 
clus  comes  to  the  sleeping  Achilles,  and  tries  in 
vain  to  grasp  him  with  loving  arms,  but  the 
soul,  like  smoke,  flits  away  below  earth.  How 
Hermotimos  the  seer  used  to  go  out  of  his  body, 
till  at  last,  the  soul,  coming  back  from  a spirit 
journey,  found  that  his  wife  had  burnt  his  body 
on  a funeral  pile,  and  that  he  had  become  a 


The  Lost  Atlantis. 


345 


bodyless  ghost.  How  Odysseus  visits  the  blood- 
less ghosts  in  Hades,  and  the  shadows  of  the 
dead  in  Purgatory  wondered  to  see  the  body  of 
Dante  there,  which  stopped  the  sunlight  and 
cast  a shadow. 

How,  in  Virgil’s  iEneid,  the  love-maddened 
Queen  Dido  could  wish  no  greater  curse  to  be- 
fall iEneas,  than  that  his  body  should  lie  un- 
buried on  the  plain,  and  even  the  old  boatman, 
Charon,  in  Hades,  refused  to  ferry  across  the 
River  Styx  th^shades  of  any  who  lacked  burial 
while  on  earth. 

This  idea  of  the  phantom  life  of  souls  as 
shades  and  shadows,  constitutes  the  higher 
philosophy  of  the  transcendental  metaphysics  of 
the  ancient  Greeks,  whose  exponent  was  Pytha- 
goras. Religious  fervor  was  strong  in  the  Aztec, 
and  from  his  devotion  to  formality,  Atlantis 
must  have  been  the  home  of  ceremonial  religion. 
The  words  Atlas  and  Atlantic  have  no  satisfac- 
tory etjunology  in  any  language  known  to 
Europe.  These  are  not  Greek  and  cannot  be 
referred  to  any  European  language,  but  in  the 
Nahuatl  or  Toltecan  language  we  find  the  radical 
a,  atl,  which  signifies  water,  man  and  top  of  the 
head.  From  these  come  a series  of  words,  such 
as  atlan,  on  the  border  of,  or  amid  the  water,  from 
which  comes  the  adjective  Atlantic.  Therefore 
the  Atlantic  Ocean  must  have  received  its  name 
from  the'continent’ Atlantis  before  the  cataclysm. 
We  have  also  Atlaca , to  combat,  to  be  in  agony. 
It  also  means  to  hurl,  to  dart  from  the  water, 
and  in  the  preterit  makes  Atlaz.  From  the 
island  of  Atlantis,  the  Atlas  mountain  in 
northern  Africa  would  seem  to  the  inhabitants 
to  be  hurled  out  of  the  water,  hence  its  name 


346 


Land  Without  Chimneys. 


was  probably  given  by  these  same  people,  as  the 
word  occurs  in  no  other  language. 

On  the  map  of  Mexico  today  are  more  than  a 
hundred  towns  with  the  same  combination  of 
letters  of  atl  or  lan  which  shows  that  the  combi- 
nation is  an  essential  part  of  the  Aztec  language. 
There  are  many  traditions  that  are  receiving  light 
from  the  nineteenth  century  that  crystalizes  them 
into  accepted  history.  For  twenty-six  centuries 
has  the  siege  of  Troy  stood  out  in  profile  as  the 
model  epic  of  the  world,  but,  on  account  of  its 
antiquity,  of  doubted  veracity.  Now  Dr.  Schlie- 
man’s  excavations  seem  destined  yet  to  find  the 
funeral  pyre  of  Patroclus,  surrounded  by  the  re- 
mains of  Trojan  captives.  And  even  later,  the 
French  archaeologist  M.  Marcel  Dieulafay  has 
brought  to  light  the  ancient  city  of  Susa,  and  we 
may  even  now  behold  the  Palace  of  Artaxerxes 
Mnemon,  whose  foundations  were  laid  by  Xerxes 
I.  485  B.  C.  ; and  now  after  twenty-three  centu- 
ries, the  student  may  take  his  Bible  in  his  hand, 
turn  to  the  Book  of  Esther  and  read,  while  the 
guide  in  the  ancient  capital  of  Persia  points  to 
the  spot  where  Mordecai  sat,  to  that  corner  where 
Haman  was  hanged,  and  to  this  court  where  the 
lovely  Esther  was  crowned  queen,  and  whence 
the  sorrowing  Vashti  departed,  as  the  unfortunate 
Hebe,  cup-bearer  of  Jove,  before  the  victorious 
Ganymede. 

Plato  records  the  sad  fate  of  Atlantis  nearly 
five  hundred  years  B.  C.,  and  Solom  had  recor- 
ded it  in  a poem  two  hundred  years  earlier. 
Plato  says  the  expedition  against  Egypt  took 
place  during  the  reign  of  the  Athenian  Kings, 
Cecrops  and  Erectheus,  and,  according  to  the 
“Marble  of  Paros,”  these  Kings  ruled  1582  B C. 


The  Lost  Atlantis. 


347 


and  1409  B.  C.,  which  is  not  a great  deal  earlier 
than  the  siege  of  Troy.  Though  this  is  very  an- 
cient history,  we  have  as  much  right  to  believe 
Plato’s  history  as  Plomer’s,  if  it  can  be  well  es- 
tablished. 

The  Abbe  Brasseur  de  Bourbourg  is  the  great- 
est authority  on  the  translation  of  Aztec  litera- 
ture, and  he  maintains  that  the  oldest  certain 
date  in  the  Nahuatl  or  Toltecan  language  reaches 
back  to  955  B.  C.,  and  as  the  Toltecs  dwelt  some 
time  in  the  country  of  Zibalba  before  they  dis- 
possessed the  Colhuas,  their  migration  must  have 
begun  more  than  a thousand  years  B.  C.  The 
Colhuas  were  the  remnant  of  those  who  had 
escaped  the  terrible  calamity  of  Atlantis.  To 
those  who  reject  the  theory  here  offered,  I would 
say  the,  Held  is  large  and  inviting  to  any  whose 
insight  into  the  past  can  help  solve  the  problems 
of  the  origin  of  the  ancient  Mexicans. 


CHAPTER  XXV 


CONCLUSION. 


“And  thy  request  think  now  fulfilled,  that  asked 
How  first  this  world  and  face  of  things  began, 
And  what  before  thy  memory  was  done 
From  the  beginning.” 

HE  existence  of  the  Continent  of  Atlantis 


is  an  hypothesis,  but  so  was  the  existence 


of  Lemuria,  and  there  are  scientists  today 
of  international  repute  who  firmly  believe  that 
a continent  once  existed  in  the  Indian  Ocean 
between  Madagascar  and  India,  and  the  proof  is 
not  wanting. 

On  the  island  of  Madagascar  are  found  thirty- 
three  species  of  monkeys  called  Lemurs,  which  are 
not  found  in  Africa,  nor  in  any  other  part  of  the 
globe  except  Ceylon,  India,  and  the  Malay  Arch- 
ipelago. Because  these  Lemurs  are  found  only 
in  that  region,  Sclater,  the  English  Zoologist, 
has  called  the  sunken  continent  “Lemuria.” 
Between  Madagascar  and  India  are  a number  of 
submerged  banks  of  less  than  a thousand  fathoms 
deep,  which  a slight  elevation  would  make  com- 
paratively easy  stages  of  communication  between 
Madagascar  and  India  for  all  animals.  An 
elevation  of  three  hundred  feet  would  unite  Java, 
Sumatra  and  Borneo,  into  one  great  peninsula  of 
the  Asiatic  continent. 


348 


Conclusion. 


349 


The  island  of  Madagascar  is  two  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  wide  and  a thousand  miles  long,  and 
is  separated  from  Africa  by  the  Mozambique 
channel,  only  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  wide. 
Africa  has  monkeys,  apes  and  baboons ; also 
lions,  leopards,  hyenas,  zebras,  rhinoceri,  ele- 
phants, buffalo,  giraffes,  and  many  species  of 
deer  and  antelope  ; but  strange  to  say,  not  one 
of  these  is  found  in  Madagascar,  or  anything 
like  unto  them,  and  yet  Madagascar  is  only 
two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  away.  There  are 
in  Madagascar,  according  to  Wallace’s  “Island 
Life,”  and  Dr.  Hartlaub’s  “Birds  of  Madagas- 
car,” one  hundred  species  of  land  birds,  and 
only  four  or  five  have  any  kindred  in  Africa ; 
but  in  Malaysia  and  India  we  find  identical 
species,  and  on  the  islands  of  Mauritius,  Rod- 
riguez, Bourbon  and  the  Seychelles  group,  we 
find  so  many  curious  birds  without  wings  with 
kindred  in  Madagascar,  we  know  that  the  islands 
at  some  time  have  been  connected,  else  how 
could  birds  without  wings  get  from  one  to  the 
other?  There  are  five  species  of  lizards  which 
are  found  in  Mauritius,  Bourbon,  Rodriguez  and 
Ceylon,  and  even  to  the  Phillipine  Islands. 

The  Mascarine  group  contains  a thousand 
and  fifty-eight  species  of  plants,  of  which  sixty- 
six  are  found  in  Africa  but  not  in  Asia,  and 
eighty-six  are  found  in  Asia  but  not  in  Africa, 
showing  a closer  relationship  to  Asia  than  to 
Africa.  Milne-Edwards  has  even  surmised  a 
Mascarine  continent,  to  include  all  the  outlaying 
islands  around  Madagascar.  Beccari,  in  his 
work  on  the  distribution  of  palms,  after  noting 
the  difficulty  of  the  dispersion  of  the  fruits, 
reaches  the  conclusion  that,  when  we  find  two 


350  Land  Without  Chimneys. 

congeneric  species  of  palms  on  widely  separated 
lands,  it  is  reasonable  to  infer  that  the  lands  have 
once  been  united.  On  the  Mascarine  Islands,  in 
Ceylon,  the  Nicobars,  at  Singapore,  on  the 
Malaccas,  New  Guinea,  in  Australia  and  Poly- 
nesia, occur  various  species  of  Phycosperma , all 
very  difficult  of  dissemination,  and  hence  could 
only  have  reached  their  present  habitat  by 
being  connected  by  intervening  lands  now  in 
the  ocean  bed. 

Winchell  in  his  “Pre-Adamites”  states  among 
his  principles  : 1 . The  doctrine  of  Pre- Adamites 

is  entirely  consonant  with  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciples of  Biblical  Christianity;  2.  A chain  of 
profound  relationship  runs  through  the  constitu- 
tion of  all  races,  and  they  may  be  genealog- 
ically connected ; 3.  The  initial  point  of  the 

genealogical  line  may  be  located  in  Lemuria. 
Peschell  in  his  “ Races  of  Man,”  says:  “This 
continent  which  would  correspond  with  the 
Indian  Ethiopia  of  Claudius  Ptolemaus,  is 
required  by  anthropology,  for  we  can  then 
conceive  how  the  inferior  populations  of  Aus- 
tralia and  India,  the  Papuans  of  the  East 
Indian  Islands,  and  lastly,  the  Negroes,  would 
thus  be  enabled  to  reach  their  present  abode 
by  dry  land.  The  selection  of  this  spot  is 
far  more  orthodox  than  it  might  at  first  glance 
appear,  for  we  here  find  ourselves  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  four  enigmatical  rivers  of  the 
Scriptural  Eden, — in  the  vicinity  of  the  Nile, 
Euphrates,  Tigris  and  Indus.  By  the  gradual 
submergence  of  Lemuria,  the  expulsion  from 
Paradise  would  also  be  inexorably  accom- 
plished.” To  this  he  adds  the  argument  of 
such  ecclesiastical  writers  as  Lactautius,  the 


Conclusion. 


351 


venerable  Bede,  Hrabanus  Maurus,  Cosmos  In- 
diclopleustes,  and  the  anonymous  geographer  of 
Ravenna. 

I go  thus  into  detail  to  show  that  men  believe 
in  the  submerged  continent  of  Lemuria,  though 
they  have  never  seen  it,  but  cannot  explain  the 
presence  of  plants  and  animals  on  widely  sep- 
arated islands  except  by  supposing  they  were 
once  connected.  If  we  could  establish  a similar 
relationship  with  Atlantis,  the  matter  would  ex- 
plain itself.  From  the  presence  of  rock  salt, 
sand  and  sea-shells  on  the  desert  of  Sahara,  we 
know  that  it  was  once  the  bottom  of  the  ocean, 
and  the  cause  of  its  rising  might  have  been  the 
submergence  of  Lemuria,  or  vice  versa,  and  the 
submergence  of  Atlantis  may  have  had  a counter 
result  elsewhere.  Charles  Martins  says  that : 
“By  the  rules  of  hydrography  and  botany,  the 
Azores,  the  Canaries  and  Madeira  are  the  re- 
mains of  a great  continent  which  formerly  united 
Europe  to  North  America.”  * 

However,  Atlantis  does  not  have  to  stand  al- 
together on  theory.  The  governments  of  the 
world  have  gone  about  it  in  a practical  manner, 
which  is  worthy  of  notice. 

In  1873,  Her  Majesty’s  ship  Challenge  made 
soundings  in  the  Atlantic  off  the  north  coast  of 
Africa,  and  in  1874  the  German  frigate,  Gazelle , 
made  further  soundings  in  the  same  regions, 
and  in  1877  Commodore  Gorringe  of  the 
U.  S.  sloop  Gettysburg , discovered,  about  a 
hundred  miles  from  the  Strait  of  Gibraltar,  an 
immense  bed  of  pink  coral  in  thirty-two  fathoms 
of  water.  Corals  never  work  in  water  deeper 
than  two  hundred  feet,  so  at  last  here  is  proof 


* “ Revue  des  Deux  Monties.”  March,  18G7. 


352  Land  Without  Chimneys, 

positive  that  there  are  sunken  islands  there. 
These  various  soundings,  when  located  on  a 
map,  indicate  the  existence  of  an  extended  bank 
of  comparatively  shallow  water,  in  the  midst  of 
which  the  Canaries  and  the  Madeiras  rise  to  the 
surface. 

The  location  of  the  newly  discovered  moun- 
tains in  the  Atlantic,  lies  within  the  fifteen 
thousand  fathom  line,  and  here  is  probably  the 
stump  of  the  ancient  Atlantis. 


FINIS. 


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■ ' .’H 


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